


The Veil

by a_dale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Crack Treated Seriously, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Prompt Fic, Protective Klaus Mikaelson, Protective Mikaelsons, Protective Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, but there's obvious want there, but this is what I wanted so LOLS, for prompt see notes, like to the point of OOC at some points, nothing happens, some minor implied dub-con elements later on, the Nogitsune wants Stiles back, the veil is thinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-10-24 16:43:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 59,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dale/pseuds/a_dale
Summary: Stiles moves to Mystic Falls after the pack more or less pushes him out.Throwing a dart at a map is a surprisingly easy way to pick somewhere to move.Stiles would like to point out that when he decided to move across the country, he didn't expect to fall in love.





	1. First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt I received a little while ago and have finally written enough to start posting!
> 
> the prompt was this;
> 
> "so after the nogistune drama stiles decides to move to mystic falls (also stiles should be a bamf, trained with magic and hand to hand combat) so anyway Klaus meets stiles and is attracted to him so they start dating. then a people from the other side come back to life then the nogistune comes back to torment stiles"
> 
> I had a hard time figuring out how I wanted to write this so I decided to go the tried and true method of a 50 word prompt! So it's like two prompts in one :p 
> 
> All mistakes are mine!

Stiles would be the first to say he hadn’t expected anything like this. When he’d left Beacon Hills behind for the small town of Mystic Falls, he’d thought he’d be safe and sound and far from supernatural troubles. He should have realized that small towns seemed to be the breeding ground for supernatural trouble, and really, a name like Mystic Falls? He could have just kicked himself. He was darting through the small town streets, using his Spark not only to hide himself, but to throw off the trail. How was he supposed to know that there were vampires in town? He didn’t just want to kick himself, he wanted to knock his own head against a wall. He’d been so desperate to get as far from Beacon Hills as possible he’d hardly done any research - just hidden himself away as quickly as possible. And that recklessness was about to try and take a bite out of him. He collided with a solid form and felt the wind rush out of his lungs, even as he looked up to see just who he’d run into. He met faintly annoyed but mostly amused blue eyes in a ridiculously handsome face, and judging by the fact that the man had kept him on his feet, he was willing to be at least somewhat helpful. That and the fact that he’d seen through whatever illusion his Spark had put up meant it would probably be best to get him on his side.

“Help. Please help me.” and that earned him a raised brow. He could work with curiosity, he hoped. “I was just buying groceries and this guy, he came on super strong and when I wasn’t interested he tried to attack me.” and now there was a frown as well.

“Do you know who he was?” and boy was that voice dangerous. Stiles could’ve swallowed his own tongue but he knew he only had a small window before the vampire caught up with him.

“Salvatore. Uh. I think it was Damon Salvatore. I go to school with his brother, I think.” and he made sure to push some panic into his gaze. “Please, I think he’s chasing me.”

“You’d be right about that, love.” and with that, the handsome man with the to die for accent, pushed him gently behind him. Stiles got a glance of the vampire, Damon Salvatore, come to an abrupt halt, and couldn’t help the wave of relief that this stranger was willing to help him. He didn’t want to out himself as a Spark - not yet and not really ever in this town - but if the man hadn’t been willing to help he may have been forced to.

 

“Klaus.” Klaus didn’t bother to hide his smirk as Damon greeted him warily. He wasn’t quite sure why he was standing between Damon and his prey, but there had been something about the young man that had him acting on instinct to protect, and he rarely ignored his instincts.

“Damon.” He watched Damon contain a flinch, and his smirk widened. “Can I help you?” he could feel the heat of the young man behind him, hear how his heart still pounded, and wondered what it was about him that had drawn Damon’s interest. Instead of answering right away, Damon glared daggers at the young man behind him, sneer curling his features.

“He attacked me.” and that had Klaus raising a brow. His afternoon was just getting curiouser and curiouser.

“Did he now?” and even he could hear the amusement in his tone.

“You attacked me first!” and the tone of voice was belligerent. He was surprised that despite his hummingbird pulse, the boy was all but vibrating with rage. “You didn’t take no for an answer!” and Klaus wasn’t sure why that grated on him so much - it wasn’t as if he hadn’t killed many against their wills - but what the boy was implying wasn’t life or death. And maybe it had been the bright spark of life in his eyes when he’d run full tilt into him.

“Is this true?” and Damon knew him well enough to take a step back.

“Is he with you?” Damon asked instead, evading, and Klaus glanced back at the young man then, caught his gaze and saw the fight in them.

“He is now.” then he turned back to Damon. “Run along then.” and there was no missing Damon’s noise of disgust but he turned and left anyways, for once choosing the smart path. The moment Klaus was sure he’d gone, he turned back to the youth in question, smirk still in place.

“Thanks.” and Klaus chuckled.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet. I would say the scales aren’t nearly balanced.” he tilted his head, regarding the youth carefully. “How about we make it even. You can join me for dinner.” and Klaus had no idea why he was doing this but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “7pm. Don’t be late.” and he made to continue on his way.

“Wait!” and he glanced back, wondering if the boy would try and back out. “Where?” his smile this time was more genuine.

“Why, the only place in town, of course.”

 

>>>

 

Stiles readjusted his shirt for the millionth time, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk as he looked up at the Mystic Grill. He knew this is where Klaus had meant - it really was the only place in town - but that didn’t make him any less nervous. He wasn’t even really sure why he was there. He’d figured out pretty soon after Klaus had left that he hadn’t exactly been human either. After all, he’d looked into Damon Salvatore - called a couple of friends in the supernatural community - and he had a fairly illustrious reputation in this part of the country for killing first and asking questions later and had for the better part of the century. So if he’d pulled up short facing Klaus, that should have told him enough right then. As it was, the moment Klaus had walked away, his Spark had nearly gone haywire - sending signals of not only vampire but _werewolf_ and he’d certainly thought that was impossible. But there he was, proven wrong. And now he was meeting this - this _hybrid_ for dinner? Was he about to walk into his own execution? Or was this - dare he say it - some sort of date? Both thoughts were equally as baffling but he screwed up his courage, pushing the door open. He caught sight of Klaus immediately, sitting at a table facing the door, back to the wall, and the moment Stiles met his gaze, he lifted his drink in greeting.

He had no way of knowing that Klaus had actually been nearly worried he wouldn’t show up. Not that he would admit that even under pain of death.

“Sorry I’m late. My Dad called me when I was on my way out.” he offered. He didn’t share that his Dad had spent most of the phone call calming him down from an anxiety attack over the fact that he didn’t know what the man now sitting across from him wanted.

“You’re close then? You and your father.” and Stiles nodded, settling himself into the chair, trying his best not to fidget as he took in the place - noted all the exits.

“Yeah, we are. My Dad’s the best there is.” and he didn’t have to fake his smile. “He lives back in California though, so he likes to call and check up on me.” he had no idea why he shared that, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

“I can admit to not knowing what that’s like. Having a father I admire.” Klaus noted, surprising even himself by the admission, but he was almost glad he had because some of the nervous energy around Stiles faded as a wry smile graced his features.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I made his life hell for a while. What teenager doesn’t, right? But we Stilinski men stick together.” There was clearly something behind that statement - some sort of bonding experience between father and son he was unaware of - but it didn’t bother him.

“So why move so far away then?” he asked instead, and Stiles blinked in surprise, shifting in his seat. He was beginning to realize that it was nearly impossible for Stiles to sit still.

“Oh you know. Statistically, people who go to school in state have a better chance of getting into the college.” Klaus lifted a brow at that, and also at the far too innocent expression Stiles had on his face. When Stiles met his gaze, the grin was nearly wicked. “Nah, not that complicated. I’d fallen in with a - let’s call it rough crowd. My Dad wanted me to get out of there. We threw darts at a map.” and his careless shrug made Klaus realize that was probably very much the truth.

“And how are you finding it, Mystic Falls?” Stiles rolled his eyes, clearly comfortable now.

“It’s not so bad. I’m from a small town myself. This is pretty much the same. Well actually - this is a little more weird to be honest.” he glanced around the room with a look of amused disgust. “Who knew absolutely everyone would want to know everyone else’s business?” another shrug. “Everyone back home more of less kept to themselves. Other than for like - lacrosse games or whatever. We were just big enough of a town not to just be one big community, you know? Now don’t get me wrong, we all more or less recognized each other at the store - but that’s as far as it went.” he looked back at Klaus and grinned. “If my Dad didn’t know Liz I’m pretty sure my background check would have been run.” his grin actually widened. “She probably wouldn’t have liked what she found.” and wasn’t that fascinating. Klaus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Trouble with the law?” the glint in Stiles’ eyes was wicked.

“My best friend growing up, his Dad works for the FBI. Let’s just say, we didn’t get along.” and now Klaus could see the rage, buried deep under the brave front, the humour, but he could see it all the same. Then Stiles blinked, and it was gone. “That’s a lot about me. Your turn. What brought you to Mystic Falls?”

 

>>>

 

By the end of the evening, Stiles couldn’t remember why he’d ever been nervous. If it hadn’t been a date at first, that’s most certainly what it had turned into, but Stiles wasn’t going to argue with what fate was throwing his way. He’d had some pretty shit luck in his lifetime, and if this was the world’s way of finally turning things around, he wasn’t going to argue. After the awkward start, and the surprisingly personal admissions, they’d ended up settling into comfortable conversation and good natured teasing. Now, as Klaus walked him home, Stiles couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“This is me.” he admitted, almost wishing they could keep walking, but he did have school in the morning after all, and it was getting late. Klaus glanced past him at the apartments above the storefronts, lips curling into the faintest of smiles.

“I’ll bid you goodnight then.” and before Stiles even had a chance to reply, he moved closer, and in a motion so smooth Stiles’ head was spinning, pulled him in for a kiss.

When Klaus drew back, he took a moment to stare at Stiles’ face, at how his eyes stayed closed for a moment, and when he opened his eyes, how the liquid bronze was dazed. It was as pleasing as it was fascinating. When they focused back on his face, the flush that coloured his cheeks was equally as charming. Satisfied, Klaus stepped back, and was further gratified when Stiles unconsciously followed the touch before he dug in his pockets for his keys, playing with them a moment before he offered a bright smile.

“Goodnight.” and then he hurried inside. Klaus stayed until the light clicked on in the apartment above before disappearing from the sidewalk.


	2. Final

Finals were the worst. Stiles was fairly certain there wasn’t anything worse than end of year exams, but on the plus side, as long as he passed everything, he’d be graduating High School. Plus, he was fairly certain he’d aced all of them, but that didn’t make the stress any worse. He had a pounding headache building, and all he wanted was to go home and crawl into bed, maybe call Klaus and see if he couldn’t convince him to come spend the night in with him. He pulled out his phone, sending a text that he’d finished his last exam. He made his way to his jeep, throwing his bag in the passenger seat, when the voice came from behind him.

“Stiles, right?” he tensed at the words, knowing that voice, and turned to face the younger Salvatore, standing in the parking lot, watching him.

“Yup. And you’d be Stefan.” Stefan lifted a brow at that, but Stiles just gripped his keys harder.

“Afraid of something?”

“You and I both know your brother doesn’t like me much. Since we’ve never really spoken before, it’s pretty safe to say you don’t exactly make me feel comfortable.” Stiles shot back.

“About my brother - I’m sorry about him.” and that had Stiles scoffing. The incident with Damon that had coincidentally introduced him to Klaus had happened months ago.

“You waited 3 months to apologize for that?” he didn’t bother hiding the sneer. “I think it’s a bit late for that.” Stefan took a step closer and Stiles moved closer to his jeep. “What do you actually want?”

“I think you know more than you say.” and Stiles frowned.

“What are you talking about?” but he knew exactly what Stefan meant. He made sure to keep his heartbeat even so as not to give anything away. Stefan continued to watch him, moving closer, but Stiles had nowhere to go, not unless he wanted to abandon his jeep.

“You’ve been seeing Klaus for a while now.” and Stiles gave a slow nod. It was no secret. He and Klaus had been dating ever since that first night - and it had been some of the best couple of months of his life. But Klaus still hadn’t told him about his vampiric or werewolf natures - and so Stiles didn’t speak of it either. He knew sooner or later they would have to have that conversation - but for now, Stiles wanted to enjoy the somewhat normal life of dating someone who enjoyed him for who he was, rather than for what he could do. He was fairly certain Klaus felt the same way. “You’re telling me you don’t know what he is?” and that confirmed what Stiles had suspected. Stefan was trying to catch him into admitting about the supernatural. Stiles was sure to keep the frown on his face.

“What the hell does that mean?” and he made sure to let some of his temper show. “He’s my boyfriend.” and it gave him a bit of a thrill to say those words. After all, Klaus had been fairly adamant about exclusivity. Not that he minded, he was also all for it, but it had been more than a little thrilling to know someone wanted that with him. “Look, if you have a problem with Klaus, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to deal with you, but that has nothing to do with me.” he turned, moving to get into the jeep, knowing that any normal human wouldn’t be afraid of turning their back to a vampire, but the moment he did so, he was grabbed and slammed against the side of the jeep, driver door swinging open.

“Let go of me!” he shouted, shoving at the hands grabbing onto his shirt.

“Stefan, what the hell?” the both looked over at the sight of Jeremy Gilbert, and if Stiles didn’t know that Klaus would be furious, he could have kissed him with gratitude.

“Stay out of this, Jeremy.” but Jeremy didn’t, coming closer instead, scowl in place.

“Leave him alone.” the younger man said instead, grabbing Stefan and pulling him away.

“He’s dating Klaus.”

“So?”

“What do we really know about him?”

“A lot of things.” Jeremy shot back, stepping between them. “We hang out all the time.” and that had Stefan blinking in surprise. “Now back off.” and Jeremy glanced back at Stiles, worried frown in place. “You okay?” Stiles nodded fervently, just wanting to get out of there, and he immediately scrambled into the jeep, knowing he probably didn’t have much time before Stefan was willing to move through Jeremy to get to him.

“Call me later, okay?” and Stiles let his gaze dart to Stefan and back, showing worry. Jeremy offered a reassuring smile.

“Will do, see you later.” and Stiles didn’t waste any time pulling out of there. He was on his way to Klaus’ house before he could even think twice, and as soon as he realized what he was doing, he slowed his speed. He needed to think this through. Would it be better to tell Klaus? Let the vampire deal with what was obviously a vampire problem? But would sharing his concern share that he knew more than he’d admitted to? He sighed, pulling over to the side of the road. He pulled out his phone and immediately saw a message from Klaus, asking how his exams had gone. He couldn’t help his smile, and went to dial his number.

He was flying through the air before he was even sure he’d hit the call button, and stared dazed up at the sky even as the pain of hitting the ground jolted through him. Then Damon’s face came into view above him.

 

Klaus saw Stiles was calling and answered it on the second ring with a smirk.

“Hello, love, calling to celebrate?” he asked, amused, because usually if Stiles called instead of texting back it was because he was too excited to waste time typing. When he was initially met with silence, Klaus glanced at his phone, but saw that the call was indeed in progress. “Stiles?” that’s when he heard the muffled sound of pain, and he was on his feet in an instant.

“Let go of me.” he heard Stiles shout, as if from a distance, but even he could hear his voice was slurred. His hand clenched around the phone.

“You’re not going anywhere.” and that - that was a voice he also recognized. “You’re going to tell us everything you know about Klaus.”

“And if I don’t?” there was the solid sound of a fist hitting flesh followed by a groan.

“Then we’ll kill you. Or maybe we’ll see what you’re really worth to him.”

“What have you got against him, anyways?” Stiles shot back, voice weak, and the words were met by a strangled cry. Klaus knew what that sound meant - and it made his blood boil. Then he heard the sound of a body hitting the ground, and knew it was Stiles.

“Yeah, we’ll see what you mean to him, all right.” 


	3. Numb

Klaus stared at the broken pieces of his phone, scattered on the floor against the far wall. He didn’t remember throwing it, but he wasn’t surprised either. His whole body felt numb. He’d gone and done something stupid after all. He’d fallen in love with a human, and now it was coming back to haunt him. He felt his features change before he could get it under control and then fought viciously against it. He wasn’t going to stay here cursing his luck.

He was going to get Stiles back, and then he was going to make the Salvatore’s pay.

 

Between one moment and the next, Klaus was at the Salvatore’s front step, and he banged hard on the door before throwing it open.

“Damon!” he all but roared, storming into the house, and across the room from him, Stefan appeared, expression wary.

“He’s not here.” Klaus was across the room, hand shoving through skin and bone to wrap his hand around Stefan’s heart. He watched as Stefan gasped and shuddered in pain, and gave a savage grin.

“Then you’d better find out where he is.”

“What did he do?” Stefan gasped out, and for a moment Klaus considered actually squeezing the life out of him then and there.

“He has Stiles. I want him back.” and there was no mistaking the shock in Stefan’s expression. With a growl of frustration, Klaus withdrew his hand, watching as Stefan crumpled at his feet, hand pressed to his chest as his body healed itself. “Why is it that your brother can’t seem to leave him alone?”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that he came to town, alone, and the first person he cozies up to is you?” and Klaus had found it a little odd at first, but he didn’t anymore. He knew that despite the fact that he seemed to be less inclined to company, Stiles had made good friends with Jeremy Gilbert almost his first day of school. Knew that the two of them spent time together out of school all the time, watching movies and playing video games. He also knew that Jeremy had said nothing about the supernatural to him because he’d cornered the youngest Gilbert and they’d agreed to keep it from Stiles for the time being, to protect him. He knew that Stiles had been in trouble back home - that his father was the Sheriff and that Stiles had been badly hurt so he and his father agreed that he would go elsewhere so he could be safe. He knew all of these things and it grated on him that because the Salvatore’s didn’t know, they assumed Stiles was a threat, but not only that, assumed he was using Stiles for something.

“You’re going to call your brother and you’re going to find out where he’s taken Stiles. If you don’t, I swear I will kill everyone who’s ever meant anything to you, and I won’t make it easy, or quick.” he crouched down, feral grin stretching across his features. “Just because I haven’t killed you all, doesn’t mean I can’t. The fact that any of you are alive has been a courtesy.” then he stood, grin gone from his expression. “Find him, and find him now.”

Stefan pushed to his feet, instantly pulling out his phone and dialling Damon’s number. He didn’t move from Klaus’ sight though, knowing better than to do so.

“Little brother.” was the glib answer. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“So I heard.” Stefan cut in, and there was a pause before Damon was cursing.

“What happened?”

“Klaus is here.” and that lead to more cursing. “He wants Stiles back.”

“How does he even know I’ve got him?” and Stefan winced back at the dangerous look on Klaus’ face.

“Damon.” there was another fierce round of cursing.

“He has to know something.” Damon shot back, angry, “And whatever he knows, I’m going to learn.”

“Damon-”

“Stefan is trying to save your life, you know.” Klaus murmured, and he knew Damon had heard him by the absolute silence on the other end of the phone.

“You want him, come and find him. Leave Stefan out of this.” and with that, Damon hung up the phone. Stefan stared blankly at Klaus for a moment, and Klaus made a sound of disgust.

“Where would he go?” he asked, voice deceptively quiet, and Stefan flinched back.

“I don’t know.”

“Think. Harder.” and Stefan looked down at his phone, staring at it as if it had betrayed him. In some ways, it had.

“The Lockwood Cellar.” he said finally. “Or the old mill.” he shrugged a shoulder, watching Klaus carefully again. “I don’t know. But I can help you look.”

“What makes you think I want your help.” Klaus snarled, and Stefan stood straight.

“Because together we can cover more ground.” Klaus was in front of Stefan before he could move an inch, and the snarl on his face was deadly.

“If I don’t get Stiles back all in one piece, there will be hell to pay.”

“Understood.” Klaus nodded, moving towards the door now.

“Oh, and Stefan?” when Stefan met Klaus’ gaze, he found death staring back at him.

“Damon owes me more than blood for what he’s threatened.” Stefan’s expression went blank, but Klaus was moving out the door. He was going to find Stiles - and then he was going to pay forward every injury he found.


	4. Broken Wings

Stiles came to with his whole body aching. He groaned, head swimming with pain, blinking his eyes open. He shifted as he blinked at the dim light, and the pain lanced through him even as he cried out, slumping forward. The burning in his shoulders made sense now as he saw the chains holding him up, strung up in hooks on opposite walls.

“Look who’s awake.” and his head shot up, trying to see through the pain. When his eyes finally focused, he found Damon standing in front of him, and he glared daggers. He was chained high enough that he was already on his feet, but he put his weight on them, taking the strain from his shoulders. “We have less time than I wanted, but what can you do. Your boyfriend already knew we were coming. How do you think that was?”

“I’d already called him, asshole. We were on the phone when you attacked me.” he shook his head, trying to shake off the dizziness. He watched as Damon’s features shifted - not fully, but like a ripple before he got it under control. He remembered then that the last thing that had happened was Damon drinking his blood, and now he realized the stickiness on his neck - his chest - was his own blood. He felt the bile rise up in his throat, and swallowed it back.

“You’re looking a bit green around the edges, kid. Not a fan of blood?”

“Not really.” and he grimaced, pushing the nausea away.

“Funny, considering.”

“Considering what?” Stiles demanded, trying to push the dizziness far enough away that he could grasp at his Spark.

“Klaus’ diet.” Stiles wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. All this because Damon wanted to out Klaus as a vampire?

“I’ve never done anything to you.” Stiles said then, tugging at the chain despite the pain it brought him.

“You might not have. But Klaus has.”

“So?”

“So you’re important to him.” Stiles let out a snarl, yanking at the chains.

“And this is supposed to make you better than him?” he demanded. Damon was in front of him in a blur, and Stiles jerked back in surprise, head spinning with the motion.

“I guess we’ll see.” and the next flash of movement had Stiles crying out in pain.

 

>>>

 

Klaus was halfway through the woods when he caught the scent of blood. It only took another moment for him to recognize Stiles’ scent underneath that. He hadn’t often had use of his wolf’s senses, but then again, he’d never had the need to track like this before - the desperation of an unspoken timeline where if he didn’t move fast enough the one he wanted to find would be beyond his grasp.

He followed Stiles’ scent to the old Lockwood cellar, and felt the rage spike through him as the scent of blood grew stronger. The moment he stepped down the stone steps, all he could see was Stiles, hanging there, arms held wide and trapped - and Klaus had the sudden image of a bird with broken wings, hanging in front of him. He moved quickly then, hands gently cupping Stiles’ face as he lifted it, and was relieved to see Stiles’ eyes flutter open even as fury snaked through his veins, heating his blood.

“Klaus. You have to go.” Stiles said then, voice hoarse, liquid bright eyes sliding in and out of focus, and Klaus shook his head.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“But Damon-”

“Leave Damon to me.” He pulled the chains from Stiles’ wrists with barely a thought, not bothering to conceal his strength. He caught Stiles’ weight as he fell from where he’d been tied, further enraged at the whimper it drew.

“He says you’re a vampire.” Stiles said then, so quietly Klaus almost didn’t hear. “Says I shoulda known cause we’re dating. He wants to kill you. I won’t let him.” and Klaus found it both endearing and terrifying, that even beaten and bloody as he was, Stiles wanted to protect him.

“I can protect myself.”

“I know.” and the surety of the tone had Klaus pausing, “But doesn’t mean you have to.”

“I should be saying this to you, love. It’s because of me you’ve been hurt.” and how that grated at him.

For a single, nearly blinding moment, Klaus considered killing Stiles himself - after all, if the boy was dead, nobody would be able to use him to get to Klaus again. But he knew he would never be able to do it - and that was almost just as grating. He lifted Stiles into his arms, ready to carry him out, but even as he did so, the impact came from behind him, a driving pain through his back. he managed to shift just enough that it missed his heart - but only just - and even as he fell forward, he watched Stiles hit the ground as well, rolling once, twice, before coming to a stop. The fact that he didn’t move had Klaus’ breath catching for one terrifying second before Stiles groaned. Then Klaus was spinning around, facing Damon even as the young vampire dove towards him again, stake in hand. He grabbed him and threw him back, grabbing the stake imbedded in his own back and yanking it free with a cry. Furious now, when Damon came at him again, he threw the stake at him, watching it hit his shoulder and throw him off balance. Then he leapt forward as well, wrestling the stake from Damon’s grasp and fighting to push it into his chest - through his heart.

“Stop.” they both froze at the sound of Stiles’ voice, and Klaus looked over, snarl in place. Stiles was standing - though barely - propping himself against the wall. “Don’t kill him.”

“He was going to kill you.” Klaus snapped, but Stiles shook his head, then pressed a palm to his temple as the world spun and he swayed.

“I know. I just - I don’t want to watch anyone else die.” and there was an ocean of sadness in his gaze as he looked at Klaus. “Please.” and then his voice nearly broke. “I just want to go home.” and how could Klaus do anything but that? He looked back at Damon, and nearly killed him anyways just for the look of disbelief on his features.

“If you _ever_ hurt him again, I will tear you limb from limb.” and then he ran the stake through his other shoulder before standing. He went right back to Stiles, lifting him back into his arms, and since it seemed like there was no hiding his nature now, didn’t bother to hide his speed, taking them instantly back home. The moment they arrived, he set Stiles down on a bed, biting into his wrist, and offering it out. He watched Stiles lose what little colour he had in his cheeks as his eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Sometimes the sight of blood makes me pass out. Or throw up.” and Klaus couldn’t help the self deprecating laugh. Of course it did.

“Drink it anyways. It will heal you.” Stiles just stared at him another moment before nodding, accepting the blood when Klaus pressed his wrist to Stiles’ lips, though he watched carefully for any sign of illness so he could move Stiles to the washroom accordingly if needed. But Stiles managed to swallow a mouthful without incident, and even as Klaus slowly watched his injuries heal, Stiles was clearing his throat. Klaus met his gaze with a frown, concerned to see the fear now looking back at him.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” he murmured, brushing the hair, matted with blood and sweat, from Stiles’ brow. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.” and there was that absolute certainty again.

“Then why are you afraid?” and he watched Stiles wince, eyes darting around the room before coming back to Klaus’.

“I already knew you were a vampire.” Klaus froze, staring in disbelief, almost wishing he hadn’t heard, but the fear was still in Stiles’ gaze, and there was no way to ignore it.

“How?” he didn’t want to feel betrayed, but the first tendril was sneaking it’s way into his thoughts.

“Beacon Hills - we had werewolves.” Stiles admitted, and his gaze never left Klaus’ face, the fear never fading, but Klaus was beginning to realize it wasn’t fear _of_ Klaus, it was nerves - but more than that - it was fear of rejection. The fact that Stiles was afraid Klaus would leave him for knowing the truth was confusing and almost laughable. It also helped assure him that Stiles hadn’t sought him out to curry favour.

“That - that’s part of what happened. With me. With why Dad wanted me to get out. I really did nearly die.” he admitted. “More than once. But one of the things that happened - it sort of like, unlocked these powers, I guess. I can sort of see auras. Like, I know if someone’s dangerous, or super happy, or whatever. I mean I can only sense like - really strong emotions. But also - I can sort of sense the supernatural?” and now he was rambling - and Klaus knew him well enough to know the rambling was nerves - that the way his amber eyes darted over Klaus’ face, expression pinched, was because he was looking for the first signs of rejection. “And I can’t always tell what people are. Sometimes I just get this like - vibe. But you sort of felt familiar, you know? I’m used to werewolves. And it felt - comfortable, I guess. Nice.” and that was the first time anyone had ever spoken about his werewolf side with any sort of softness - with any sort of genuine pleasure. As it was how he’d been born, Klaus couldn’t help but be warmed by it. “But then, because I’d already met Damon, I figured out the vampire thing. and you had those vibes too. But you avoided all those guys too. So I thought you didn’t really want anybody knowing - or at least, didn’t want any trouble. And Damon really _did_ come on too strong at the grocery store that day. I was just shopping and he came right up and just crowded right in and it freaked me out even before I knew what he was and I _did_ attack him but-” Klaus put a hand over Stiles’ mouth, unable to hide his smile now.

It soothed him - the fact that he knew Stiles well enough to know what his actions and reactions meant. Soothed him to know that Stiles hadn’t been hiding anything maliciously, but because he thought Klaus didn’t want his secrets known. But-

“Were you ever planning on telling me? About whatever ability it is you have?” and Stiles nodded fervently, though he had to squeeze his eyes shut momentarily against the bout of dizziness that caused.

“Of course. I was just waiting for the right time. I was scared. Not because I didn’t think you’d understand - but because I’ve never told anyone before. Not even my Dad.” and the fact that Klaus was the very first person to ever know the truth had warmth blooming in his chest. Because he believed Stiles without a doubt. It was something he’d appreciated about the boy from the very beginning. He’d never lied to him. It just seemed he hadn’t gone out of his way to tell some truths, but as Klaus had done the same, he couldn’t blame him. “People tend to want to collect me when they find out what I am.” and Klaus had almost missed the words with his musings, but his gaze sharpened on Stiles’ face when he realized just what was said.

“Who.” and Stiles could have laughed with relief at the fact that Klaus was still so protective of him, even after knowing he’d hidden so much.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.” but with shaking fingers, he reached for Klaus’ hand, not even feeling the tears of relief that filled his eyes when Klaus accepted his hand and gave a gentle squeeze.

“I’m glad you’ve told me.” Klaus said then, reaching forward to brush the first few tears from Stiles’ cheek.

“But I haven’t even told you yet.”

“You’re a Spark, aren’t you?” and when Stiles gaped, Klaus didn’t hide his superior smirk. “I’ve been around long enough to know what sort of supernatural beings exist in our world, love. I know the kind of beings can read energies and sense the nature of others as you can, but also, if what you are is so rare that people wish to hoard you, then you could only be a Spark, as Druids are plentiful.” When Stiles’ shock didn’t fade, he brought the hand in his to his mouth, pressing a careful kiss against his palm.

“You’re not mad?” Stiles asked then, voice weak, and Klaus considered the question. He’d been tempted to answer with an immediate ‘no’, but wanted to make sure that was true. After all, he couldn’t help the distrust he’d felt initially - or that momentary sense of betrayal - but now, he felt none of those things, only gratitude that Stiles was safe and in his care.

“No,” and he knew he probably sounded as shocked as he felt by the revelation. He’d killed people before for less, but then again, he’d also never felt as he had for Stiles for anyone else. He watched more tears slide down Stiles’ cheek, and this time, he leaned forward to press a kiss to Stiles’ brow.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? We’ll postpone the celebration of you finishing your high school education later.” but when he eased Stiles up, the younger man threw his arms around him, hugging him tight. Klaus just cradled him close, breathing him in.

“I want to show you.” and when Klaus eased him back with the slightest of frowns, he found Stiles smiling at him, though the expression was almost shy - almost unsure.

“Show me what?”

“My Spark.”


	5. Melody

It was like a golden swirl of energy filling the room - like the visual representation of a song - a sweet melody floating through the breeze. Even as Klaus had the thought, he could all but hear it, singing to him, and in that song, he could not only hear, but feel what Stiles did - how Stiles did. It brought an ache to his chest - though for the first time in his very long existence, the pain wasn’t bad - wasn’t something he wanted gone. It was something he could cherish. For the first time in his existence, Klaus could actually see and feel the embodiment of someone’s love for him. He nuzzled into Stiles’ neck from where he sat behind the youth, curled around his back as Stiles leaned into him, hands waving in gentle circles through the air. The air all but shimmered and for a moment, Klaus was fairly certain he saw the world as Stiles did - saw the shimmer of an aura around Stiles’ body - before it all slowly faded back into the room.

“It’s beautiful, your Spark. As are you.” and he felt the heat of Stiles’ blush as it crawled up his throat. He hummed against the soft skin there, holding Stiles tight when he wriggled at the sensation, ticklish, unable to help his smile. “Truly. I’m grateful you shared it with me.” he wondered if Stiles knew just how much he’d actually shared - if he realized he’d showcased his feelings as well as his ability.

“I wanted to share it with you.” was the murmured reply as Stiles twisted in his arms to burrow in against him, and Klaus allowed it as he liked having Stiles this close - liked being turned to for nothing more than simple companionship.

“You must be tired.” he said then, running careful fingers through Stiles’ hair, earning a contented murmur. After Stiles had said he wanted to show him his Spark, Klaus had bargained with him first to get cleaned up and helping him do so, knowing that even though he was healed, the exhaustion of not only being tortured but of healing would be great. Now, with this display of power, Klaus was surprised Stiles wasn’t unconscious.

“Was gonna call you.” Stiles murmured then, and Klaus tilted his head, confused.

“Why would you call me?”

“Before. After school. When I called. I wanted sleep and cuddles.” and Klaus still didn’t understand why he found the slightly petulant tone Stiles used when he was tired charming, but he did.

“Well then, I’d hate to disappoint.” but even as he said the words, Stiles’ grip tightened on his shirt.

“Can I stay here?” and now there was fear in his voice. Klaus brushed a kiss against the top of his head, shifting them both so he could pull back the covers.

“I wouldn’t have let you leave, even if you’d begged.”

Stiles knew he should have found that statement alarming, but instead he felt comforted, and as soon as Klaus had settled them beneath the covers, he cuddled right in, all but tucking himself into Klaus’ side, pressing his face against his ribs, listening to his heartbeat. It still somewhat amazed him that he had a heartbeat - after all, vampire lore pretty much always stated that people were dead when they turned - but this proved otherwise. Stiles let his thoughts drift, and let himself follow, comforted by the steady beating of Klaus’ heart.

 

>>>

 

Stiles woke up with an itch. Not a physical itch, but a mental one. When he’d shown Klaus his Spark the night before, something about it had stuck with him - and it made him long for an instrument. Remembering that he’d seen a piano somewhere at some point, Stiles carefully pulled himself from Klaus’ arms and went in search of it.

 

Klaus woke up to a familiar tune, and he was smiling before he even realized just what he was hearing. He turned his head, looking for Stiles, and that’s when he realized the other man was gone. The spike of fear that shot through him was instant and alarming, and he was out of bed in an instant, darting through the house. He came to an abrupt halt outside of the parlour where he found Stiles sitting at the piano, fingers dancing over the keys. His eyes were nearly closed, but he played beautifully. It was then that Klaus realized this was the song he’d woken up to - but not only that, this was the melody he’d heard when Stiles had shown him his Spark. He stayed there in the doorway, watching as Stiles played the song out, and moved forward as he sensed its end - laying his hands on Stiles’ shoulders even as the last notes echoed through the room. Stiles leaned back into him, tilting his head back to meet his gaze.

“Sorry I left this morning. I don’t know why but I had to play.”

“Did you not recognize the song?” Klaus asked, having heard the faint confusion in Stiles’ voice, and was surprised when Stiles shook his head.

“Just knew I had to play it.”

“That was the song of your Spark. When you shared it with me.” For a moment Stiles just stared up at him, and then his cheeks went pink with embarrassment. He pulled away only to turn so he could see Klaus properly.

“You actually heard it?” And Klaus nodded, smiling once more.

“I did.” And now Stiles’ smile was wry.

“Well I guess that explains a lot.” And when Klaus lifted a brow he explained. “Sometimes it’s like a voice - not like a separate voice - but like, my conscience I guess. My own honest feelings. It’s alive. I guess. My Spark. Because I am, obviously, but it doesn’t let me hide things from myself.” He shrugged and stood, moving towards Klaus and offering his hand. “Apparently it doesn’t want to hide anything from you either.” But there was no upset with the words, only a nearly bubbling happiness, and Klaus accepted the offered hand.

“I’m starving. Breakfast?” And Klaus smirked, knowing he no longer had to hide his nature.

“Are you offering?” And for a moment Stiles’ expression went slack and Klaus worried he’d somehow overstepped, but then Stiles burst out laughing, wicked glint back in his eyes.

“At least buy me dinner first.” And this time it was Klaus who was thrown, but he offered back a wicked grin of his own.

“Well then. Just what can I tempt you in this morning?” And Stiles moved right in, hooking his arms around Klaus to hold him close.

“Probably a couple of things.” He murmured into a kiss. “But eggs would be appreciated.”


	6. Rules

Stiles was practically falling over giggling as they left the theatre, leaning into Klaus to stay on his feet as he tried to contain his laughter to no avail.

“Oh man, that was so great.” but that only prompted another fit of laughing. Klaus rolled his eyes, though his own chuckle broke free without his permission. He hadn’t been to a theatre in an age, and he found he quite enjoyed it with Stiles. Though he imagined most people would absolutely dread the way he could hardly keep still, hardly keep his commentary to himself, Klaus found it broke the monotony - and Stiles was clever - beyond clever really, so it was never just mindless chatter.

“I believe, in your words, you would say the movie was ‘awesome’.” and there was no hiding his amusement despite how he tried to keep a straight face. That only prompted Stiles into further laughter, and Klaus could think of one surefire way to help him catch his breath. Without any warning, he swept him around the corner, hidden by the shadows of the theatre, and pressed him back into the brick, kissing him senseless. He felt Stiles’ breath catch and release, the strength in his fingers as he gripped the shoulders of Klaus’ jacket for balance. Even just having him this close had Klaus’ wolf all but begging - and it was funny because he’d never felt his wolf like this before - not even right after releasing it from it’s magical bindings within him. But ever since Stiles it had become a louder and louder voice in his head. He realized that should have tipped him off long before Stiles had admitted to his Spark. But now it was as much a part of him as his vampirism, and he couldn’t find it in him to mind, not when it made everything as vibrant as this.

“Do you want to play a game?” He murmured into Stiles skin, nipping at the corner of his jaw, and when Stiles shuddered Klaus didn’t bother hiding his grin.

“What sort of game?” And he was all but breathless. It only pleased Klaus more.

“A chase.” He punctuated each phrase with another press of lips on skin - teasing. Revelling in each catch in Stiles’ breath. “Through the woods. All the way home.” And when Stiles’ heartbeat actually seemed to trip at the suggestion, his scent going thick with a heady mixture of _needpleasuredesire_ Klaus almost couldn’t let him go.

“What are the rules?”

“Don’t get caught.” Stiles all but groaned.

“If I do?”

“You’re mine.” And underneath the heady scent of his desire came such a sweet pleasure at the words that despite the pounding in his blood for a chase, Klaus felt the steady thrum of tenderness.

“If I make it to the house?” And Klaus leaned back then, eyes flashing, grin wide.

“You won’t.”

 

>>>

 

Stiles was running through the woods, and despite how dark they were - how unfamiliar compared to the woods he’d grown up in - he felt more alive than he had in months. He’d forgotten how it had felt to do this - to run for the pleasure of it - not because you were in danger. His Spark thrummed around him, connecting with the forest - reaching into the earth, and he grinned. He could hear Klaus in the trees behind him and it only quickened his pulse. They both knew what would happen when Klaus caught him, and it wasn’t something he _actually_ wanted to avoid, but there was something of a thrill in the resistance of running anyways. He didn’t bother hiding his heartbeat, knowing being able to hear it was part of the thrill for Klaus, but he did use his Spark to mislead his scent. He almost felt drunk - drunk on the sensation of his magic coursing through him - on the pure unadulterated lust he felt for the man he knew was going to become his lover by the end of the night - and the rush of adrenaline from running as he was. Feeling far bolder than normal, he stripped his jacket, hanging it on a branch as he ran. He knew the moment Klaus found it - heard the low growl shudder through the air and shuddered with it. He had a button up on over his t-shirt and left that behind next, not bothering to place it just letting it billow to the ground behind him as he kept running. His heartbeat tripped as much as he did now, almost breathless. Part of him wanted to make it to the house just to say he could - but the rest of him - he knew he was probably grinning like a loon. He knew the exact moment Klaus found his shirt too and let out a carefree laugh. He didn’t notice how the forest rustled in response.

 

All Klaus could hear was Stiles’ heartbeat. It pulsed through him until his own echoed it. He knew where in the woods they were - knew they were closer to the house than Stiles was probably aware - and wondered if maybe he would actually lose this chase. That’s when he caught sight of Stiles’ coat hanging from the branch in front of him, and the growl that pulled itself from his body surprised him as much as it pleased him. He left the coat hanging there, no longer idly chasing as he loped through the woods. He found Stiles’ shirt next, and this time in response to his growl, Stiles’ laughter echoed back to him. He left the shirt too and that’s when he caught sight of him through the trees. Just a glimpse - but it was enough. In a burst of speed, he made to close the distance between them. That’s when he caught sight of the house - caught sight of the edge of the trees - and realized Stiles was no longer in the woods. In the brief second before he broke the tree line he felt an irrational sense of fear - that if he didn’t catch Stiles he wasn’t really _his_ and that the youth would leave with the realization - but the moment he was clear of the trees, the slight body was leaping into him, forcing him to catch it or fall.

“Caught you.” Stiles murmured - crashing their lips together, and Klaus responds with equal further, getting a better grip on Stiles as the youth all but wraps around him, legs tightening around his waist. Klaus took the moment to wonder how he could have ever been afraid of this wonderful creature being anywhere but with him. He knew as well as Stiles did what the chase really meant, knew even as he finally, _finally_ let his hands wander to scorch against equally as hot skin, sliding under the thin t-shirt - the last article of clothing hiding the first glimpse of Stiles’ skin from him. Knew this was going to change things - make them more than they’d been. They’d shared a bed, sure, but the intimacy of sleep was all that had occurred between those sheets. Until now.

Stiles laughed, breathless, as Klaus used the vampire speed to take them inside, took that moment to do his own teasing, mouthing at Klaus’ throat before latching on with his teeth, earning another growl. He doesn’t know what brought the question to mind, but before he can stop himself the words blurt from between his lips.

“Since I caught you, does that make you mine?” and for a moment Klaus froze in surprise, looking at him in a way Stiles had never expected. Then the surprise had faded, leaving only a warmth that Stiles did recognize - that he only saw when Klaus looked at him.

“Yes.”


	7. Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this really weird habit of slipping into the present tense when I write sometimes??? If it's come up so far - my bad though it probably will again.

Klaus stepped in the front door and knew immediately that Stiles wasn't home. His scent was faded - not enough to mean he’d been gone longer than a few hours - but sign enough. That, and the hummingbird heartbeat he’d come to associate with home is also glaringly absent. It made the house seem unnaturally quiet, which he supposed, in a way, it was. Taking a page out of Stiles’ book, he turned on the radio - something he only had because Stiles lugged it from his own apartment, hating absolute silence - and felt a slight relief at having the silence pushed back by the soft tones of the classical station Stiles had set it to for Klaus’ benefit. A gift considering some of the things considered popular these days. Though he had to admit, it was always entertaining watching Stiles’ bop about to the beat as he did whatever task he’d set himself. Stiles always made fun of him for his attachment to classical music - making fun of his age - and it was times like that that Klaus couldn’t help his humour. Stiles had no idea how old he was - not even a clue. He’d asked once, partially curious, partially confused, how old Stiles thought he actually was. Stiles had stared at him, pensive, before shrugging a shoulder before replying he assumed like a couple hundred years. Klaus had outright laughed when Stiles had shrugged again and actually said “Like 3, maybe.” and Klaus had distracted him from asking just what he found so funny with a kiss and the offer of dinner out.

Klaus shook the memory from his thoughts, wandering through the house, glancing briefly at his phone. It was mid afternoon so not late enough or early enough to have to worry about making sure Stiles ate something - but he was also disappointed not to see a message from the youth. Stiles was pretty insistent usually at keeping in contact when they weren’t around each other. Not that he minded - he liked to know where Stiles was just as much - but it did make this odd silence strange. He sighed, disgusted with himself. He was as bad as a lovelorn teenager. Not surprising since the one he’d chosen _was_ actually a teenager, but that didn’t make it any better. He was a thousand year old Hybrid. He had better things to do than mope around after his partner. Firm now, Klaus moved to his studio. He hadn’t had much time to paint as of late - busy with Stiles and… other business. The reminder that he may have to leave town briefly to deal with some rumours he didn’t like was troubling, but he pushed it from his mind. He would deal with that when it became necessary. Allowing the music to sweep through him, he reached for a blank canvas before he hesitated, changing his mind and reaching for a sketch pad instead. Then he passed over his pencils for charcoal. He enjoyed the feel of it, despite the mess it made.

 

Stiles came home to the sound of the soft music sweeping through the house, and couldn’t help his grin. Klaus had muttered and complained about constantly having music, and yet every time he came home and Klaus was alone there was almost always music playing - filling the massive house. He’d learned that Klaus was particularly fond of piano pieces. Oh and strings. Stiles didn’t bother hiding his grin as he wandered through the house, knowing exactly where to find Klaus. Every time Stiles left the house without word, he always found Klaus in the art room. He knew if he said that out loud Klaus would argue, that he was never so predictable, but since Stiles thought it was endearing, he kept the observation to himself. After all, he probably wouldn’t like it if Klaus told him where he brooded whenever Klaus left. Though to be fair, he already knew the answer to that.

True to his guess, he found Klaus lounging with a sketchbook in hand, charcoal smudged across his cheek bone, slight frown of concentration marring his brow. The moment he stepped fully into the room, Klaus went absolutely still, eyes leaving his work to look up at him, and the smile he gave was so full of warmth Stiles couldn’t help but beam back.

“I brought you a present.” he said immediately, bounding into the room and dropping right into Klaus’ lap. He would’ve been appalled at the boldness even a month earlier, but now he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He was lucky Klaus had those vampire reflexes because he’d managed to set aside both work and charcoal to make room for Stiles. His expression reflected both his amusement and curiosity and so Stiles wasted no time producing the box he’d kept behind his back with a flourish. Klaus frowned at the box, head tilting curiously though he opened it obligingly. He was further surprised to see that it was actually a box of chocolates. Upon closer inspection, the chocolates were shaped as tiny little anatomically correct hearts.

“I found this really morbid little cafe.” Stiles babbled, unaware of the complicated emotions flitting through Klaus’ thoughts. “And I’m pretty sure I fell a little bit in love. It’s in the next town over - I needed to pick up some stuff for this thing I’m researching but then I was hungry and it was actually like 2 shops down from the bookstore I was in. Anyways, everything they serve is kind of gruesome and stuff. But it’s so good. If they had curly fries I’d probably never want to eat anywhere else ever again. Even though they’d probably call them something gross.” he frowned, trying to think of what sort of gross name could be given curly fries to suit the aesthetic of the shop.

“Well, whatever. I’m sure they could think of something. Anyways, heart of my heart, these made me think of you. Since rumour has it your favourite habit is divesting your enemies of their hearts.” he absolutely beamed, and then the smile faltered when he realized Klaus wasn’t smiling back, still staring at the box in his hands. “Um.” Stiles fidgeted, almost regretting his impulse now. “It’s okay if you don’t like it.” he said then, feeling awkward and embarrassed and beyond uncomfortable. As soon as the words left his lips, Klaus’ gaze shot up, grip tightening convulsively.

“No. I - you caught me off guard, love.” he admits then, his smile so small, so soft, that Stiles couldn’t help but relax marginally. Klaus feels no discomfort being this honest - not when Stiles had looked so unsure of a gesture Klaus would probably cherish until the end of his days, whenever that may be. He set the box carefully aside before gathering Stiles close, nuzzling into the soft hair at his temple. “No one has ever bought me chocolate before. Thank you.” and he made sure Stiles can hear the absolute truth behind his thanks. He felt Stiles stiffen in surprise before relaxing completely, all tension finally gone from his frame. Now, instead, he shifted in embarrassment.

“It’s just chocolate.” Stiles muttered, though he clung back just as tightly. Klaus smiled as he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ temple. He was absolutely and irrevocably charmed by this human.

“Well then, will you share them with me?” and when he pulled back enough to see Stiles’ face, he saw the blush dusting his cheeks, the smudge of charcoal that must have been on his own cheek transferring with the affection. He grinned widely at the sight, and for a moment Stiles just stares before giving a happy nod.

“You first. It’s your present.” and Klaus was glad that’s all Stiles had asked of him, because in that moment he was fairly certain he would have done anything.


	8. Nostalgia

“Come _on_ , Dad. Don’t be ridiculous. I absolutely did _not_ call the diner and tell them not to serve you hamburgers again. Why would you even say that?” Klaus couldn’t help his grin. He knew that tone of voice, it meant that was exactly what Stiles had done. It seemed so did his father because Stiles’ next response was a splutter of protest. Klaus continued to listen with half an ear as Stiles spoke to his father from the other room, the other half of his attention on the papers in front of him. He scowled at them, not nearly as amused by them as he was by Stiles. He hated dealing with this sort of thing - politics and finance. This had always been Elijah’s area of expertise. At the sudden reminder of his elder brother, Klaus felt a pang in his chest that left him staring blankly down at the desk.

Elijah.

He hadn’t thought of his brother in months - avoiding all reminders of him like the plague since he’d stuck the dagger in his chest months before. Even as he was reminded of just why his brother wasn’t around, he couldn’t help but miss him at the same time. But not only him - the rest of his siblings as well. The problem with missing them though, was the guilt that started to seep into his thoughts, like a parasite. He leans back at his desk, listening to Stiles’ bright peal of laughter at whatever his Dad said, and felt the pang again. He knew what it felt like now, to have someone outside of his family. To hold that affection - but not only that, but to have it returned. He’d held affection for many, and many had held feelings for him of some form or another - but few times indeed had it been reciprocated on either end, and when it had it had been almost casual. At least it was compared to what he felt now.

“Okay, I gotta go, Dad, love you.” and the sound of the goodbye had Klaus looking up as Stiles wandered into the study, smile on his face. “Hey, how’s all that work going?”

“It’s tedious.” Klaus muttered, reaching for Stiles, and the youth complied easily, letting Klaus pull him onto his lap, cuddling in.

“Think I could convince you to take me out to dinner?” Stiles asked then, “I haven’t been grocery shopping this week so we’re kind of out of food.” he admitted sheepishly. “And also I kinda want to get out of town for a night.” he didn’t have to explain why, Klaus understood he wanted a distraction from missing his father. He still didn’t fully know the extent of what happened in Beacon Hills that had chased Stiles out - didn’t understand how two people who loved each other as clearly as father and son did could stand to be so far apart - but whenever the topic had come up Stiles’ had become melancholic and Klaus did his best to avoid that.

“I could be convinced to do dinner.” Klaus admitted then, because now that he was stuck thinking about family, he too wanted out of this house. He met Stiles’ gaze when the younger man tilted his head, eyes wary.

“Okay,” he drawled out, “Why does it sound like I’m not going to like what you want in return?”

“I have to take a trip.” Klaus admitted, because really, why was he dealing with paperwork when he could threaten a few people and deal with it just as well? Stiles’ displeasure was immediate.

“When? For how long?” and Klaus made a split decision in the face of Stiles’ unhappiness.

“For a week or so.” and he watched Stiles’ expression become mutinous. He couldn’t help his laugh, capturing Stiles’ mouth with his own in a quick but rough kiss. “Boston is fairly boring, especially this time of year, but I thought, if you didn’t mind doing most of the wandering on your own while I’m indisposed, you could come with.” as always, he couldn’t help his pleasure at getting to watch all the emotions make their way across Stiles’ expressive features - unhappiness morphing into shock, then pleasure, then amusement.

“Indisposed? Is that what we’re calling it these days?” and Klaus shook his head, still amused, kissing Stiles once more before setting him on his feet so he too could stand.

“I wish to leave tomorrow. Why don’t you look up places you’d like to stay while I prepare for dinner?” and Stiles nodded, enthusiastic now as he pulled out his phone, thumbs flying rapidly over the screen as he started to research. Klaus couldn’t help but smirk as Stiles trailed behind him unconsciously, eyes glued to the screen. He guided Stiles to a chair before he moved to change his shirt, pulling the one he’d been wearing over his head. He felt eyes on him as he rifled for a new shirt and couldn’t help his pleasure at the unabashed appreciation in Stiles’ gaze.

“I thought you wanted to go for dinner.” he teased, unable to help himself, and was pleased further when the flush crawled up Stiles’ cheeks but he didn’t avert his gaze. It gave him a fair amount of pleasure to know that Stiles was growing more confident in his desire - not that he’d minded even a bit - but he knew sometimes it frustrated the youth.

“I do.” he admitted, but the longing in his gaze said more than his words. Klaus was in front of him between one blink and the next, pressing him into the chair with a surprisingly tender kiss.

“Best not to let ourselves get too distracted then, hmm?”

“We could just go later.” Stiles countered, hands already firmly gripping Klaus’ hips, one thumb brushing thoughtless against the dip of his hip. Klaus’ answer was to lean more firmly into Stiles, because yes, there was absolutely no reason they couldn’t go a bit later.

 

>>>

 

Klaus watched Stiles’ chat amiably from across the table, hands gesturing broadly as he spoke all about the book he’d been reading, intermittently taking bites of his dinner before leaping right back into his story. As he watches him, lets the warmth fill him, that bone deep affection that he’s beginning to realize is more than just that - he understands now, how his family had felt. How they didn’t want to leave him but also couldn’t stay for want of finding what he’s now found. He watches the way Stiles’ eyes are just bright with passion, and decides it may be nearly time to tell him the truth of who he is - the truth of his family. While he isn’t sure he’s ready to draw the daggers himself, he knows for a fact that Stiles would - and while Klaus doesn’t want him to do so - doesn’t necessarily want him anywhere near his hungry vampiric siblings when they wake - he knows what he’s looking for isn’t help, but acceptance.

With that thought, he knows he’ll be reuniting with his family soon, the question is when, and how he wanted to deal with it.


	9. Heartbeat

Klaus woke to the steady thrum of Stiles’ heartbeat and kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sound. He didn't know why the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat filled him with such pleasure, not when the sound was usually the sound of mortality - of weakness. Yet with Stiles, he didn't hear weakness or mortality - he heard the proof of his vitality, his blindingly bright life. It was a sound he’d come to cherish, despite the fact that he never imagined he’d cherish anything of anyone quite so - well, human. He cherished this proof that he’s alive, it’s hummingbird pace both exciting and calming. Despite the fact that he knew the pulsing, quick beat of a heart was something that often meant fear, it didn't draw out the predator in him - didn't make him think of fear and the hunt. The sweet taste of blood on his tongue. If anything, it pushed the urge to protect the staccato beat. Even in the heat of excitement when Stiles’ heartbeat quickened in excitement - he never had the urge to dig his fangs deep under skin - to gorge on his blood. In fact, the very idea made him feel sick. To remind himself that Stiles was safe, even from him, he turned, burying his nose in Stile’s hair, wild from sleep. The boy just made a soft sound, cuddling closer even in sleep, and Klaus assured himself once again in the thrum of his pulse.

 

He knew Stiles found comfort in the sound of Klaus’ own heartbeat, that when unknown terrors woke him he always preferred to pillow his head on Klaus’ chest and lull himself back to sleep with the sound. He wondered if it soothed Stiles as much as the sound of Stiles’ soothed him. He knew he could ask, that Stiles would answer honestly, but he thought he’d like to keep this secret, for once.

 

He wondered if Stiles’ realized that even without seeing his impossibly expressive face, Klaus could read nearly all of his emotions through his heartbeat. He’d discovered actually, during their trip to Boston, that not only could he understand just what the youth was feeling through the sound, but also could pick it out of a crowd without fail. He would never tell Stiles that he’d spent an entire afternoon purposefully losing Stiles in the crowd only to find him again just by listening to the steady beat of his heart. He wondered briefly if this was part of his werewolf heritage - he knew wolves were very reliant on pack and family - and it made sense that you’d be able to sense and find someone within your own pack easier than others - but he liked to think it was a Stiles’ specific thing.

  
He heard the faint grumble of Stiles’ stomach and grinned into his hair, knowing Stiles would be forever embarrassed by the sound, despite how delightfully human Klaus found it. Reluctantly, Klaus rose from their bed, padding through the house towards the kitchen. The sound of Stiles’ heartbeat followed him, and he found himself in an unusually good mood as he put together a quick breakfast for his companion, deciding to surprise him with breakfast in bed. No matter how many times he made such gestures, Stiles was always both baffled and delighted, and so Klaus vowed to continue doing them. In his mind, if there was anyone who deserved such shows of affection, it was Stiles. He heard the slight change - the slightest of upticks, and knew Stiles’ was awake. When he didn't hear the youth get up, he made his way back to the bedroom, tray in hand. He stepped back into the bedroom to find Stiles blinking sleepily at him, and smiled in return, settling to sit next to him.

“I brought you breakfast.” and just like he’d known it would, Stiles’ face lit up in absolute surprise and joy as he slowly pushed himself up, accepting the tray with a soft thanks, tone reverent, as if nobody had ever done this for him before, despite the fact that Klaus had done this very thing barely a week before. Klaus drew him in for a quick kiss before waving towards the food.

“I’m going to shower. What do you think of practicing with your Spark today?” and that had Stiles looking up in further surprise, though no argument.

“Sure,” and Klaus saw him try and bite back his question, actually biting his lip to try and stop himself, but it didn’t work. “Why?” Klaus gave a careless shrug, not wanting to say it was so he knew Stiles would be able to protect himself against his family incase they were less than hospital when he finally decided to wake them.

“Thought it would be fun.” and Stiles nodded happily, digging into his breakfast. Satisfied, both with the days plans and the fact that Stiles was happy, he made his way into the bathroom, stepping into the shower.

He’d barely been under the hot spray for a few minutes when he heard Stiles’ phone ring, heard the boy answer, though he couldn’t quite hear the words exchanged. He could, as ever, hear Stiles’ heartbeat, and noticed the moment it picked up - knew immediately that something had happened, and it wasn’t necessarily something good. He can’t help but be relieved that Stiles always lets him hear the truth. He never tries to mask it from him even in his heartbeat - even though Klaus knows he can do so - has watched him lie to others, heartbeat absolutely smooth. Rushing a bit, because while he can tell Stiles is worried he knows he’s not in danger, he finds Stiles no longer sitting in bed but standing by the window, breakfast forgotten as he stares out the window, phone clutched in his hand. When Klaus steps up behind him, Stiles leans into the touch, heaving a sigh.

“My Dad called.” he admitted, and Klaus gave a hum of acknowledgement, wondering why this was bad. Stiles spoke to his father all the time, and it usually left him happy, not maudlin. “He wants to come to town. Wants to visit.” he turned then, eyes wary, guarded in a way Klaus had never seen directed at himself. “He wants to meet you.” and that, Klaus could admit, was the last thing he’d expected. Despite the fact that he knew Stiles was young, sometimes Klaus forgot just _how_ young. That while he was technically an adult, he was still a child in many ways - and one of those was the importance of his father’s opinion on who he spent his time with. For a moment he nearly shrugged it off before he realized that behind the wariness was nerves - and that’s when he realized the truth of the matter. Stiles actually wanted him to meet his father. He blinked in surprise before pulling Stiles in, wondering if his own heartbeat was faster with his, not fear, but perhaps worry, of what the sheriff would think of them. He knew he didn’t disapprove as Stiles was extremely honest with his father and didn’t hide where and with whom he spent his time.

“There’s certainly enough room in this house for guests.” Klaus said then, wondering when he’d become so soft - so easily swayed by the desires of a single other being. When Stiles pulled away, shock morphing into something so pure and happy Klaus realized he’d do absolutely anything to see that smile again.


	10. Stranger

“Alright, son, come on, I’ve got to get to the airport.” John Stilinski complained, tone exasperated even as he hugged his son just as tightly, making no move to let go.

“I know, I know.” Stiles retorted, eyeing the car waiting to do just that. “It’s just been really great to have you here.” even as his son said the words, John looked up to meet the gaze of the vampire werewolf hybrid his son was living with. With an admittedly grudging smile, he nodded.

“It’s been good to be here.” and he knew enough to keep the amusement off his face at the obvious relief on the other man’s face as he returned the nod, offering a small smile in return. When Stiles finally stepped back, Klaus stepped forward smoothly, offering his hand.

“Thank you for coming. You’ll have to come again soon.” Klaus invited easily, because he could see now where Stiles got many of his traits - see how he’d become the person he was. He found he liked John, liked how at ease he was with all of Stiles’ admittedly odd traits, how his absolute adoration of his son was clear in every roll of his eyes and every teasing remark. John accepted his hand, giving it an easy shake.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” he agreed, much to Stiles’ absolute delight. Then he stepped back, finally making his way towards the car.

“Call me when you land!” Stiles shouted after him, and John waved him away, despite the fact that all three of them knew he’d do just that.

“Stay out of trouble.” was the reply, and Stiles just grinned, wide and carefree.

“No promises.” the snort of laughter was the last thing they heard before the sheriff was in the back of the car, waving even as the car pulled out of the drive. Stiles stayed and watched until the car was out of sight before turning to Klaus, and before he’d even realized Stiles’ intentions he had an armful of the human, lips hungry against his own.

“I’ve been waiting all weekend to do that.” and Klaus couldn’t help the burst of laughter then, or how he kissed Stiles back just as desperately, pressing him against the front door. They stayed there, necking like teenagers, hungry, desperate kissing smoothing out into something soft, tender. When they finally pulled back, Klaus leaned his forehead against Stiles’, content to share this quiet moment.

“I liked him.” Klaus admitted, and was gifted with another smile.

“Yeah, he liked you too.” Klaus shook his head, completely amazed. He’d made no secret of his violent history - no secret of the fact that he still used violence to get what he wanted - and yet he’d still managed to win the approval of the law abiding father of the younger man in his arms. He couldn’t help but wonder just what that meant had happened back in the town of Beacon Hills that the sheriff would trust him, a verified killer, over whatever had come before.

It seemed Stiles had sensed the change, because he sighed, the smile slipping from his features though he didn’t pull away, instead pressing impossibly closer.

“You want to know why I left.” and it was clear Stiles meant beyond the vague reasons he’d given before. “About them.” and they weren’t really questions, but Klaus still answered.

“Yes.”

Stiles let his head fall back against the door, his eyes closed, but when he opened them there was a fierceness in them he hadn’t expected.

“Someone went after my Dad and I killed them.” he stared into those molten bronze eyes and nodded.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” it was obviously the perfect thing to say, because Stiles slumped, almost in relief. It made sense now why Stiles hardly blinked twice at Klaus’ activities. It didn’t take a genius to know now that every time Stiles had said he’d left, he meant he’d been pushed out - all for taking a life. It made it very clear why Stiles refused to pass judgment on him - why he accepted whatever he did without so much as batting an eyelash, because he would never fall pray to what those who’d pushed him away had.

“He was a chimera. He hated my Dad. Before he’d been turned, he was a criminal. Pretty sure he wanted to hurt people, and my Dad, well he’s always been a good person.” there was no missing the tone, that while Stiles considered his father as such, it didn’t extend to himself. “So this guy, he made it his mission to go after my Dad.” there was a fire behind his eyes now, and the grin was sharp, dangerous. “I didn’t even really have my powers yet. Well, I did - but I couldn’t control them like I can now. He came after me first.” Klaus had no idea how someone could look at this boy and think he needed magic to do anything. “No matter what he said, I knew it was to get me out of the way. He knew I’d faced down worse than him and won.” the near wolfish edge to the expression had Klaus’ own wolf surging forward, to comfort - protect - and he had to push it back to focus on Stiles’ words.

“So you killed him.” Stiles’ expression clouded, but he nodded.

“Yes. Not actually on purpose. He’d hurt me already - I was running. He was stronger, I needed an advantage.” he shrugged, obviously frustrated by the memory. “I wanted him dead, and I would have figured out how to do it, but how it actually happened was a complete accident. I knocked the scaffolding when I was climbing and it fell right through him.” there was a restlessness to him now, one that had Klaus’ wolf wanting to pace.

“That hardly sounds like murder, love.” and Stiles’ smile was as telling as it was cutting.

“Oh, I know. Apparently though, nobody else could see the difference.” the laugh was bitter and had Klaus wanting to wince. “Problem is, that wasn’t the first time someone died because of me. And after everything with - well, after everything, apparently I was a risk.” there was disgust now too, but Klaus was relieved to see it wasn’t self-directed. He also knew Stiles was leaving something very important out, but he knew better than to push at the moment.

“What happened next?” he prompted gently instead. Instead of answering right away, Stiles slid his hands down until their hands could clasp, anchoring them together with just the press of their palms.

“They forced me out of the pack. Not, like, literally, but they cut me out. Treated me like a stranger.” there was no missing the bitterness now, the hurt, though it hid behind the rage. “All because I killed someone who was going to kill my Dad. He was going to kill me and then my Dad and then I know he would’ve gone after the others.” his hands were clenched around Klaus’ so tightly that if he’d been human he was sure it would’ve been painful. “I protected the people I loved, and they punished me for it.” Klaus pulled one of his hands free just to reach up and cup Stiles’ face, staring into the burning fury that made it impossible not to see the magic crackling behind his irises. He can’t help but wonder now how anyone could have looked at him and not seen the danger - wonders the very same of himself. When he’d first met Stiles, he’d been drawn, attracted, curious even - but even he’d missed this ferocity, this violence. The only thing that didn’t surprise him was the fierce loyalty, because it was clearly one of the most integral parts of his personality. The idea of anyone not seeing that - not seeing that Stiles’ actions were always driven by loyalty to a _fault_ \- well that was even stranger than anything.

“I think you’re magnificent.” Klaus said then, watched the fury stutter to a halt as Stiles blinked at him, blindsided.

“What?” and Klaus allowed the grin to spread across his features.

“I think you’re brilliant.” he reiterated, his gaze never leaving Stiles’. “And I think I’m grateful they chased you away, and you ran straight to me.” he couldn’t help the possessive edge that had crept into his voice but Stiles obviously didn’t mind, just continuing to stare at him. Then he offered a tiny, wicked smile of his own.

“That’s not the only thing I brought with me. I may have stolen a few things on my way out.”


	11. Bitter

While John’s visit had been enlightening and enjoyable, it seems that it heralded the return of the wolf pack in Stiles’ life.

Stiles was in the kitchen, his phone up in the bedroom charging and therefore out of his hearing, but it certainly wasn’t out of Klaus’. While he’d been happy to ignore it the first time it rang - John now had his number and if it was important would call him as well - by the third consecutive call, Klaus was irritated.

“Stiles, someone desperately wants to get ahold of you.” He snapped, and Stiles looked up in surprise from where he was cooking.

“Could you grab it for me?” Klaus eyed what he was doing, debated the likelihood of being able to cook it properly, and then disappeared, reappearing with the phone in hand. Stiles accepted it easily, answering it and balancing it between his ear and shoulder as he returned to his cooking.

“Hello,” he greeted easily, and Klaus couldn’t deny his curiosity, not bothering to stop himself from listening in on whoever had needed to get ahold of Stiles so desperately.

“Stiles!” It was only thanks to Klaus’ reflexes that the phone didn’t hit the ground and when he looked up Stiles’ expression was pale. His anger surged, and he put the phone to his own ear, gaze never leaving Stiles’.

“Who is this?” he demanded, voice soft, but no less deadly. Whoever had put that look on Stiles’ face would regret it.

“I’m his best friend, who the hell are you?” Ah, so this was Scott McCall.

“As I recall, you lost any claim to his friendship when you kicked him out of your pack.” Klaus replied easily, but in truth he wanted to reach through the phone and rip Scott McCall’s heart from his chest.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but if you’ve hurt Stiles-”

“I would _never_ hurt him.” and he couldn’t help the fury that momentarily made it’s way into his voice before he caught himself. He couldn’t say who was more surprised, him or Stiles, when Stiles put his hand out for the phone.

“Let me talk to him.” his expression was blank, and for someone like Stiles who was usually so emotive it was more than a little alarming. He handed over the phone without question, watching as Stiles puts it to his ear.

“Scott.” his voice was as bland as his expression and it was obvious it had thrown the werewolf by surprise.

“Stiles? Where are you? Who was that guy?”

“Why are you calling me.” and it was in that same bland voice, but the iron beneath it was clear.

“Stiles - we need your help. There’s something going on - something in town.”

“That sounds like a pack problem.” Stiles cut in, and now some of the colour was back in his cheeks, some of the heat back in his gaze.

“Stiles,” and it was nearly a reprimand. Klaus couldn’t believe the gall of this boy. “You left. We didn’t kick you out.” and that was all it took for the full range of Stiles’ rage to flash across his features, no longer blank.

“Don’t ever call me again.” but even as he went to hang up, Scott’s voice shouted through the speaker.

“It’s after the Sheriff!” Stiles froze mid motion, his gaze finding Klaus’ once more, the absolute terror in his gaze startling.

“What did you just say?” and Scott obviously knew he only had seconds to plead his case because it all came out in a rush.

“We don’t know what’s going on but whatever’s here - it’s already killed three people. And it’s been stalking the Sheriff.”

“How do you know that if you don’t even know what it is?” Stiles gritted out.

“It’s scent. Whatever it is, it can’t hide it’s scent.”

Stiles hung up before Scott could say another word, turning his phone on silent and putting it face down on the counter. When he once again met Klaus’ gaze, it took a moment for him to focus, but when he did he looked conflicted.

“I have to go back.”

Klaus wanted to break something.

“No.”

“It’s my Dad.”

“Then I’ll go.” that brought Stiles up short, blinking for a moment before he launched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Klaus. Klaus held him just as tightly in return.

“You really would.”

“To save you the burden? Of course.”

“But?”

“But I know you would never allow me to go without you.” and there was no missing the bitterness in his tone.

“I’m sorry.” and Klaus sighed, because he knew it was true - just as he knew that were he Stiles he also would not allow another to go in his place. The bitterness welled up in his chest - after all, he could never stop Stiles from going, but the idea of him being anywhere near these people who’d so betrayed him - so hurt him - makes him nearly blindingly angry.

“They don’t deserve your help.” he almost snarled, though he didn’t let go of Stiles.

“I know.”

“Yet you’ll help them anyways?”

“It’s my _Dad_.”

“We could bring him here again. Remove him from that mess.” he pulled back now, to see Stiles’ face, unsure what he was really arguing for, but not willing to give him. “He could be sheriff anywhere. He is not limited to Beacon County.”

“It’s where I grew up.” Stiles countered. The apology in his gaze as he looked at Klaus only made him angrier. “My mom’s buried there.” at Klaus’ continued silence, an answering frustration flares in Stiles’ eyes. “Do you think I want this? I ran away, not you. I left. Because my Dad begged me to.” and that wasn’t quite what Klaus had understood before. The bitterness showed itself in the curve of Stiles’ sneer.

“That doesn’t change anything,” Klaus began, but Stiles cut him off.

“Of course it does. I would’ve stayed, you know. For him. To keep him safe from them.” he spat. “My life didn’t matter. Okay? It didn’t matter.” Klaus grabbed him before he could think better of it - shaking him harder than he should have.

“Of course it matters!” he all but bellowed, and Stiles’ expression went slack with shock. It only had Klaus tightening his grip. “You think I’ll allow you to return to this place? This place that had you convinced your life was worth nothing?” he demanded, furious now. He would tear this wolf pack limb from limb.

“I - I know it’s not worth nothing.” Stiles stammered, but Klaus could hardly listen.

“If you did, you wouldn’t be willing to go back to die. Do you wish to be rid of me so strongly that you would go back to the place that would kill you?” Finally, the panic Klaus wanted, appeared in Stiles’ face.

“ _No_ , no of course not-”

“But you will not be convinced to stay, and you will not allow me to go.” Klaus argued, watching the many gears whirl behind Stiles’ eyes. While he hated to manipulate Stiles as such, he couldn’t dare allow him to go by himself. “What am I to believe?”

“Come with me.” Stiles blurted out, and the last of Klaus’ anger slipped away as he got exactly what he wanted. He’d known he would never win the argument to avoid Beacon Hills at all cost, what with John in residence, but the least he could do was accompany Stiles and make sure he was safe. Klaus pulled Stiles back into his arms, glad that the tightness of Stiles’ grip relayed he hadn’t come to the conclusion that Klaus had manipulated him.

“You realize that if they threaten you in any way, I’ll kill them.” that earned him a wet chuckle. He had a moment of panic that he’d made Stiles’ cry, and knew he’d have to make up for it somehow. If only for his own peace of mind.

“Didn’t expect any differently.” he sniffed, leaning back so he could reach for his phone. Klaus grabbed his wrist, handing him his own.

“Use mine to call your father.” he eyed Stiles’ phone with distaste. Understanding exactly what Klaus was trying to make sure he avoided, he accepted the other phone, leaving the kitchen quickly, phone already to his ear. Klaus lifted Stiles’ phone, expression shifting into a sneer as he saw the 4 new missed calls from the same number. Ignoring them, Klaus placed a call of his own, preparing to arrange for their trip to California.


	12. Confusion

Beacon Hills was exactly what Klaus had expected it to be. From Stiles’ descriptions, from his own research - none of it was a surprise - and yet, he’d somehow expected something more. With all the different types of supernatural creatures that had passed through he’d assumed that there would be more of a pull to this place - something at least to draw him in, and yet he felt only disdain - and his desire to return home.

“Since you’re in town, will you pick me up some dinner?” Stiles asked in his ear, and Klaus returned his attention to the phone call. Stiles was holed up in their hotel room doing research. They’d considered staying at the house with the Sheriff, but Klaus didn’t like how close to the woods it was - how easily accessible to the pack. Instead, they’d convinced the Sheriff to stay at the hotel with them. It had been no easy feat, the Sheriff digging in his heels much as Stiles did, but just pointing out how anxious all of this was making Stiles had been enough. It seemed father was just as willing to give up comfort for the protection of the other as son was.

“I suppose. Anything in particular, love?” the answering hum was non-committal. 

“Surprise me.”

“Don’t I always?” that earned him a laugh. Even as he turned towards the pizza parlour, his attention was caught to his left and he turned with a frown. “Stiles?”

“Yeah? What’s up? Did something happen?” and he could hear the rustling of papers as Stiles untangled himself from whatever he’d been researching. But Klaus could only stare at the man who looked exactly like Stiles - an impossible feat since he was speaking on the phone with him - and yet when he met the man’s gaze, he was staring at a stranger. A stranger with Stiles’ face. He blinked and the man was gone and Klaus brought himself back to the conversation, denying Stiles’ question immediately.

“No - nothing.” The reality of what he was fairly certain he’d just seen sent a chill down his spine. “What does your father like on his pizza?” the ensuing whine was immediate and expected.

“You can’t bring pizza for Dad.” Stiles complained. “It’s too greasy! He needs healthy food.”

“Shall I ask him instead?” and he could all but picture Stiles’ pout in his minds eye.

“No extra meat. Regular pepperoni max. And at least 2 vegetables.” Klaus chuckled.

“Of course, love. Anything else?”

“I want garlic bread. With cheese.” tone mutinous. Klaus couldn’t help but laugh again, but his eyes were sharp on his surroundings.

“Your wish is my command.”

“Yeah, yeah. Actually, grab some coffee too. We’re out.”

“I’ll see you shortly.” and with that he hung up. Instead of going right into the pizza parlour, he took a brief look around before dashing out of sight. He did a quick tour of the area, checking each and every face he came across, and yet none looked like Stiles. He’d known they wouldn’t, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. After all, maybe he was just seeing what he wished to see. Ever since Stiles had graduated from High School and all but moved into the manor with him, they’d spent most of their time in each others presence, and he couldn’t say he didn’t miss having Stiles by his side throughout his day. Yet - he’d never hallucinated before - not without the aid of some outside influence, and he knew he hadn’t come into contact with anything of the sort. He’d made it his business to know all of the residents of this town before they’d so much as stepped foot into the county - and none of them looked like Stiles.

The chill passed down his spine one more time and he stepped into the pizza parlour, not about to deny Stiles food, even for his own unease. The youth had the awful habit of forgetting to eat when he was anxious about anything, and Klaus had made it his personal mission to ensure the boy ate at regular intervals. He wondered briefly at telling Stiles - after all, there was no use causing him further distress. And yet - what if whatever he saw was what was following the Sheriff? If it was hiding in plain sight looking like fellow residents? But that hardly made sense - not if what the pack had relayed was true. They’d been able to scent the creature and yet Klaus had caught nothing other than the humans milling about.

Klaus briefly considered contacting the pack - after all, from what he understood they had no idea yet that he and Stiles were in town - something the Sheriff had purposefully kept hidden. He wondered how on earth they had yet to notice - with his being a hybrid, and Stiles’ wild lightning scent.

He knew Stiles usually hid his own scent - often hid Klaus’ too, but there’d been a vindictive twist to his mouth when he’d admitted to not hiding their scents since they’d been in Beacon Hills - a fight in his gaze. Klaus had done nothing but press a kiss to Stiles’ temple. He too believed they should not hide. After all, their presence alone could chase off whatever was plaguing the town.

While he understood that Stiles had no idea the extent of his identity, anyone who knew anything about vampires and their scents would know he was _old_. Maybe not the reality of his age, but at least the fact that he was no newborn. Alongside that, the only hybrids that weren’t him were all under a year of age and so anybody who knew anything about the greater supernatural world would have an idea of who he was. While he didn’t expect anything of the younger pack members he couldn’t help but wonder if either of the Hale’s would realize the truth of his identity - wondered if they’d be afraid.

After the way this town had treated Stiles, he hoped so.


	13. Afterlife

The veil was thinning.

He paced through the grey terrain with all the energy of a predator on the prowl, eyes fixed on the two figures standing so close and yet so far. It looked like he should have been able to reach out and touch them, but at every pass of his fingertips, not even the air stirred.

A snarl formed on his features, but when one of the figures turned, revealing his face, anxiety creating a liquid effect in whiskey coloured eyes, the snarl shifted to a smirk.

How he’d missed that face.

He circled the boy now, ignoring the figure at his side, taking a deep breath despite the fact that he knew he wouldn’t really be able to catch his scent - but oh how he remembered it. He remembered the feel of electricity in his veins - the smell of ozone in the air - the raw rush of power that danced over his skin. He stepped right up in front of him so they were eye to eye, though he knew the boy would never be able to see him; not yet anyways.

“Stiles,” he purred, taking in every little change since he’d last seen this face. “I hope you’ve missed me as I’ve missed you.” When Stiles turned, hand catching that of the second figure, the Nogitsune’s gaze sharpened, and if looks could kill whoever had Stiles’ attention would be dead. He couldn’t help his surprise when he saw just who Stiles was with; just who he’d turned to.

“Niklaus Mikaelson.” the Nogitsune mused. He knew the Original Vampire - though he supposed it was Original Hybrid now. Now this was someone he would not cross lightly. He’d never before come across a creature older than he, though he knew they existed of course - and this was one of those few.

He was fairly certain the Hybrid had seen him the other day - not that he’d been following the vampire, he’d just been wandering, but their gazes had caught and he’d seen both recognition and surprise. It had confused the Nogitsune then, but made sense if the Hybrid had attached himself to Stiles. After all, the Nogitsune mused, amused, he had kept the boy’s face. It was his favourite after all.

On that note, the fact that they’d been able to catch each other’s gaze meant that the veil really was thinning, and the Nogitsune wasn’t one to question his luck. Even as he had the thought, the world of grey he was familiar with shifted - as if with a breeze. For one single beautiful moment the world was awash with colour, and without a thought he launched forward, reaching for Stiles. His fingers closed over his shoulder even as the veil shifted back into place, drenching him in grey again, and he watched as his hand passed through Stiles’ body.

The Nogitune just grinned. For that moment, he’d been able to reach through, and judging by the jolt Stiles had given, the youth had felt it. Even as he marvelled in his ability to slowly reach through the veil, he realized as Stiles moved farther away from him that he felt a tug in that very same direction. His smile was slower this time but no less full as he realized the truth behind what he was feeling.

In that moment he’d been able to reach through the veil, he’d somehow managed to latch his spirit to Stiles’. He almost wished Stiles was aware - wished he could see the liquid bright fear that would shift the colour of his eyes when he realized the Nogitsune had laid claim to him once more. The Nogitsune found himself momentarily thoughtful as he followed the pair through the streets. While he held a strong desire to possess Stiles once more - to feast on his fear and anger again - he had no desire to kill the boy. In fact, the Nogitsune was fairly certain this was the first time he could remember not wanting to kill his victim. He followed the pair into their hotel room, watching as Stiles settled himself into the curve of the Hybrid’s shoulder, and realized that no, he had no desire to kill the boy. He wanted to _own_ him. To keep him forever.

The feeling was unfamiliar but not unwelcome, and the Nogitsune settled in to watch. He was curious about this shift in feelings - not that it meant he would hurt Stiles any less, after all, the boy deserved punishment for having a hand in the Nogitsune’s death, but no, he wouldn’t let him die - wouldn’t try to push him to death this time.

His gaze fell on the Hybrid once more, appraising now. He would have to be careful. He could see very clearly that the feelings the Hybrid felt for Stiles were strong - aggressive almost - and so he may very well have to figure out how to kill the original permanently if he wanted to be able to keep the boy as his own. He tilted his head, curious. He wondered if there was alternatively a way to keep the hybrid in stasis until the end of Stiles’ life when he would not longer be as immediate of a threat. All things to ponder, he supposed, something he had plenty of time for.

“When are we going home?” he heard Stiles ask, curling further into the Hybrid, and in answer the Original pressed a kiss to his head. This affection was not something the Nogitsune would have expected given the Original’s history, but he found he wasn’t surprised. There was something about Stiles that seemed to draw them all in - the supernatural, but also the elders among them. Remembering the feeling of the boy’s Spark, barely a kindling at the time but with the potential for so much more, the Nogitsune couldn’t help but wonder if that was it. If that was also what pushed them all to want to either kill or collect.

“Soon.” the Original replied, and the Nogitsune preened at the information. Soon he too would be out of this hellhole of a town. Soon he would once more have Stiles all to himself.

Soon.


	14. Daybreak

It was a vampire. Stiles couldn’t help but let out an ugly sound of disbelief. _Of course_ it was a vampire. Why wouldn’t it be? As soon as it was something he knew about, of course it had to want to attack his Dad. What the hell kind of luck was that?

Ever since they’d arrived in town there hadn’t been any attacks, but Stiles had known better than to assume that mean whatever it was was gone. Stiles blamed how much effort it took to avoid the pack on how long it took him to figure out just what was going on. Added to that, Klaus had only recently started using his wolfy powers which had also slowed them down. Not that Stiles would ever say so, but it was obvious Klaus had been frustrated by his lack of ability to track as well as he felt he should be able.

Stiles glanced out the window. The sun was supposed to be up within the hour, and Stiles didn’t want to wait any longer to hunt the vampire down. They’d only just been able to catch up to it - it had finally resurfaced and started circling the Sheriff again - or at least, the Sheriff’s house. It obviously hadn’t realized yet that the Sheriff wasn’t staying on residence. According to the pack - and Stiles felt no small amount of pleasure of making them go through Klaus - it usually circled for three full days before attacking - and today was the third day.

“Ready, love?” Stiles looked away from the window and towards Klaus, offering a tired smile.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” he could tell Klaus didn’t fully believe him, going by the slight frown on his features, but he didn’t argue. Being back in Beacon Hills was definitely taking it’s toll on him. He couldn’t wait to go back to Mystic Falls. Klaus just drew him in, and in a motion Stiles would never get used to, or get bored of, they were rushing through town so fast he couldn’t even focus on the world as it moved past him. He didn’t bother trying, tucking his face in against Klaus’ neck, smiling into the skin here. Klaus huffed in his ear.

“We have a job to do, love.”

“As soon as we get back to Mystic Falls,” Stiles said then, nipping at the skin beneath his lips. It earned him a low growl before Klaus was gently pushing him away, the world no longer speeding past.

“Best we hurry then.” and Stiles grinned, wide and happy. It sometimes still surprised him that somebody else could want him this much - at least as much as he wanted them. Stiles shook the thought off, turning towards the forest. He’d been practicing for this. Spreading a hand out in front of him, he closed his eyes, feeling for his Spark. It thrummed in response, spreading along his skin with a zing of energy. When he opened his eyes, he was grinning again, but this time it was blood thirsty.

“Let’s find the vampire.” and he wasn’t so much speaking to Klaus as to his Spark. An invisible wave of energy shot forward, and he watched in some wonder as it rustled grass and leaves on its way past. He felt the moment his Spark connected with the vampire - knew Klaus must’ve heard something since his gaze shot in that direction, and then they were both off. He was momentarily glad that Klaus kept pace with him rather than racing off, though it told him his Spark must have incapacitated the vampire better than he’d expected. Klaus never would’ve moved so slowly if there was a chance the vampire could get away.

Even as they reach where the vampire lay prone, low groan on it’s lips, Stiles realized that he’d really sent out more energy than he’d realized. The vampire was practically smoking, literally, like he’d been set on fire, and Stiles exchanged a wide eyed look with Klaus. Klaus shook his head, pleased smile stretching across his features that had Stiles flushing. Then he crouched down next to the vampire, tapping his cheek to get his attention.

The moment the vampire saw Klaus he gave a cry of surprise, trying to scramble back, but Klaus caught him with a firm hand around placed against his chest. The vampire looked terrified, and while Stiles understood that it was probably scary to be caught unawares he didn’t think that they were _that_ scary. He frowned, tilting his head as he regarded the scene. Come to think of it, the vampire hadn’t even glanced his direction - all that fear, it was just for Klaus. Stiles blinked in surprise, gaze landing on the hybrid.

“I didn’t know this was your town.” the vampire was babbling. “I’ll never come back. I promise.” the vampire finally looked to Stiles, pleading now. “I’ll never even step foot in California again. Please.” and there were tears in his eyes now - wild panic. This was not the look of someone who was killing maliciously. Stiles looked away from the vampire to see Klaus watching him, and he couldn’t help but stare back, not understanding just what was going on behind his lover’s blank expression.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak but before he could so much as utter a syllable Klaus had driven his hand through the vampire’s chest and ripped it back out, heart in his palm. Stiles could only stare before he felt himself pale. He stumbled back, feeling faint, and gasped for a breath as he tried to get his stomach under control.

“You could have at least warned me.” he bit out, blinking the stars out of his vision as he was bent over, staring at the grass, braced against the tree. “You know how I feel about blood.” He felt the shift in the air as Klaus moved to stand right beside him, though he didn’t touch.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles just rolled his eyes, pushing himself upright.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know it’s dumb that I get so weird about blood.” he muttered, finally looking up to meet Klaus’ gaze though he kept his gaze pointedly from the body. Klaus was watching him carefully, but there was some of that blankness still in his expression.

“You’re not angry,” he said slowly, and Stiles rolled his eyes again.

“Why would I be angry? He was going to kill my Dad.”

“You would’ve let him go.” Now Stiles shrugged, not really sure what Klaus was trying to get out.

“Maybe. Depends I guess. He was obviously more scared of you than me. He might’ve tried to fight his way out if it was just me. In which case it would’ve been me killing him.” he pushed off the tree then, tilting his head curiously. “Unless you’re talking about the fact that he was actually terrified of you. And definitely would have left, because nobody can fake fear like that. So I mean, then the question really is, why was he so scared?” he watched Klaus tense and shook his head, stepping closer so he could reach up to cup Klaus cheek in his palm.

“I know you had a life before me.” Stiles murmured. “And even though I don’t know how long it was, I know it was long enough. Who you were then doesn’t matter to me.” Klaus’ shoulders relaxed from their tense line and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Stiles’.

“You always manage to surprise me.” Klaus murmured, and Stiles offered a sly smile.

“Good. That way you won’t get bored of me.” and then he was pulling away, glancing over at the body, blanching. “How do we get rid of that?”

“I already removed his daylight ring. He’ll burn with the sun.” and Stiles blinked in surprise.

“You’re kidding. That’s actually true?” Klaus smirked, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, cleaning the blood from his hand.

“Quite. Vampires capable of roaming during the day must have a piece of jewellery or some such spelled by a witch to protect them from the sun.” then he stepped back, offering his clean hand. “Come, let’s return to town. Say our goodbyes.” and Stiles nodded eagerly, taking Klaus’ hand.

Together, hand in hand, they walked out of the forest as the sun rose around them. At the sound of a fire lighting, Stiles turned back to see Klaus had been telling the full truth - the vampire’s remains lit up like a bonfire. Even as he turned away, his mind couldn’t stop wondering just why it was the vampire had been so scared. He knew he wouldn’t push - he just hoped that Klaus would tell him when he was ready. He hoped even harder that he’d be able to resist the mystery until then.


	15. Audience

Stiles was beyond relieved to be back in Mystic Falls. Not that it hadn’t been great being able to see his Dad regularly, but it had been a nearly full time job trying to hide from the pack, and it was only by luck and Klaus’ fast feet that they’d managed to avoid the pack completely. And by they, he meant he, because he knew for a fact that Klaus had spoken to them in order to find out what they knew about what had turned out to be a vampire.

Stiles shook the thoughts of the pack off, focusing on the fact that he was glad to be home. He wondered just when he’d started considering Mystic Falls home, but with only a glance to his left where Klaus paced the rows of food beside him, he knew.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” Stiles teased, watching as Klaus glowered at the rows and rows of cereal.

“With your luck, you’re lucky I let you out of my sight at all.” at Stiles’ pout, Klaus smirked, sliding in for a kiss. “And you can’t truly be telling me that you mind doing these little domestic tasks with me.” he all but purred, and Stiles couldn’t help his shudder. Stiles was pretty sure he should be upset about the fact that Klaus wouldn't let him go anywhere alone out of fear of losing him, but Stiles found he enjoyed being needed like that. He was well aware that was probably unhealthy, but as Klaus brushed his fingers across the pulse point in his throat, humming against Stiles’ lips in pleasure at how it jumped at his touch, he couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

There was the sound of a throat clearing behind them and Klaus’ smirk was wicked as Stiles shoved him back, cheeks bright with embarrassment as the middle aged mom pushing her toddler in her grocery cart gave them a look of disapproval.

“You’re the worst.” he grumbled, trying to fight down the blush, but Klaus only chuckled, coming up behind him to hook an arm around his waist.

“Come now, Stiles. No need to be embarrassed. It isn’t as if we’d really done anything to draw their attention.” and Stiles couldn’t help the flush as Klaus murmured right in his ear.

“You’re going to get us kicked out.” he shot back, and that actually earned him a laugh.

“Hardly. But if I’m too much of a distraction for you-” he moved to pull away and Stiles spun around, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him in, crushing their lips together. Klaus reacted immediately, pulling him in as close as possible. This time, it was Klaus that stilled, and not because of any audible interruption. 

“We have an audience.” Stiles pulls away only far enough to see over Klaus’ shoulder, and for a moment his pulse nearly beat itself out of his chest. He wasn’t sure what he thought he saw, but he knew it was terrifying. Then he blinked and saw Elena and Damon staring at them in shock. Elena looked nearly embarrassed and Damon looked pissed, and his pulse settled because he wasn’t in the least bit afraid of them. But Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling that for a minute it hadn’t been them standing there, and for a minute, that hadn’t the case.

“I just need eggs.” Stiles said then, gently untangling himself from Klaus, though he kept his gaze on the two vampires watching them. “Then we can go home.” and Klaus hummed in agreement, sliding an arm around him again even as he shot Elena and Damon a smirk.

“Evening.” and Stiles elbowed him in the stomach for taunting them, but he just continued to smirk.

“One of these days your attitude is going to get us attacked.” but Klaus snorted out a laugh.

“Hardly likely, love.” and Stiles was reminded once more of the absolute terror on the vampire’s face back in Beacon Hills. “You’ll be safe with me.” he added, nuzzling against Stiles’ temple, and Stiles didn’t fight his smile, pushing all other thoughts from his mind. He was safe, he was happy, and he was falling in love. He didn’t need to worry about anything else.


	16. Sorrow

“No! No! Let me out!” Klaus jerked away at the shouted words, barely dodging a flailing fist as Stiles tossed in his sleep.

“Stiles,” he called out, trying to wake the other, but he was met with terrified shouts instead. Fully awake now and unable to help his worry, Klaus ducked another flailing limb and rolled so he was crouched over Stiles, pinning his limbs to the bed.

“Stiles, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” he all but shouted, but it didn’t seem to help, the tears streaming down Stiles’ face as he cringed away from whatever was haunting his sleep. “Stiles, love, it’s me. You’re safe.” he pleaded, and it seemed as though Stiles’ heard him because with a heaving breath he was awake once more, eyes wild as he took in the room and Klaus poised above him. Having released his wrists the moment he’d woken, Klaus wasn’t at all surprised to find himself with an armful of Stiles’, the youth’s arms wrapped tightly around him even as his body shook with sobs.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you.” but he didn’t move, didn’t think to pull away until Stiles’ body no longer shook, until the tears had slowed. As soon as he was calm again, Stiles’ whole body slumped against him and he couldn’t help but put some space between them then, brushing the hair from Stiles’ forehead where it was stuck with sweat.

“What is it that haunts your dreams?” he finally asked, meeting Stiles’ exhausted gaze. These dreams, while infrequent, had increased since they’d returned from Beacon Hills, and Klaus could no longer afford to wait to know the reason, not if it would help him fix this. For a moment, he thought Stiles would deny him an explanation and he was ready to argue, ready to fight it, but then Stiles just slumped forward once more, resting his forehead against Klaus’ shoulder.

“Will you help me get cleaned up? I don’t think my legs can hold me right now but I really need a shower.” and the bone deep exhaustion in Stiles’ voice had Klaus sweeping him into his arms even as he strode to the bathroom. He didn’t miss Stiles’ weak smile, and knew it was because he enjoyed such casual shows of strength, and while it warmed him that Stiles could still observe such things, it did nothing to soothe his worries.

As soon as he’d put them both through the shower and bundled Stiles back in bed with a hot chocolate in hand to soothe him, the younger man shifted so he could curl up in Klaus’ lap where he was settled against the headboard, tucking his head under Klaus chin.

“I’m going to tell you about the Nogitsune.”

 

>>>

 

They sat in silence, mug long since discarded next to the bed, the only sound in the room Stiles’ even breathing. Klaus couldn’t help but wonder what it said about him that he would be so angry at the actions of the fox demon when he himself had done equally if not worse crimes - but he supposed all it did was make a hypocrite of him. That was something he could live with.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.” he murmured then, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ hair. Stiles just curled himself closer to Klaus’ body.

“It was a while ago.” he said instead. “I’m - I’m okay now.” and Klaus knew that wasn’t completely true - the nightmares told him that much - but he liked to think his presence helped - helped taper out the absolute sorrow that had sucked all the life out of Stiles’ gaze when he’d spoken of the demon. As he could neither agree nor disagree with the statement he just tightened his grip on Stiles instead. This earned a huff from the boy.

“I really am better. You make me feel better. Safe.” and as that was exactly what Klaus had hoped for only seconds before he couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in his chest.

“Thank you.” he said then, and when Stiles pulled back enough to meet his gaze in confusion, Klaus pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“For what?”

“You’ve shared the last of your secrets.” and Stiles stared in surprise. He opened his mouth to argue before snapping it closed.

“I guess I have.” he offered a tentative smile before curling up again. Klaus stared out at the room, conflicted now. While he knew in no way was he obligated to share a secret just because Stiles had, he didn’t like this imbalance. He liked that things had always been equal between them - they’d never truly hidden things from each other, had always been as honest as they could be - and now that Stiles had told him of the worst of his nightmares, it felt wrong not to share something in return.

“There’s something I wish to show you.” He didn’t wait for an answer, standing from the bed but keeping Stiles in his arms. The youth squeaked in surprise but didn’t try to pull away, waiting as Klaus took them from the house - leading to a cellar entrance out back. He opened the doors with one hand, keeping Stiles in his arms until they were inside, until they were standing in front of the four coffins. Though he set Stiles on his feet, he kept him close, knowing it was cold here, but also needing his support.

“Your Spark told you that I was older - older at least than the Salvatore’s.” Stiles nodded, not really sure where this was going, gaze jumping from coffin to coffin, but while his gaze was wary and curious, he wasn’t afraid, his heartbeat remained mostly even, and that in turn kept Klaus calm.

“I am not only old - I am the oldest.” that had Stiles blinking and Klaus turned to face him fully, taking both his hands in his own. “I am one of the original vampires. But not only that, I am the original hybrid.” Stiles was staring at him, eyes wide, so he pushed on. “My mother, she was a witch, a very powerful witch. When my youngest brother was killed by one of the werewolves in our village, she grew afraid. She created us - turned us into something that would not be so easily killed - not so easily stolen from her.” he didn’t look away from Stiles, too afraid that if he did, the boy would run. He’d never before felt so desperate. “But with our vampirism, another truth came out. When I killed for the first time, I turned.” the confusion was clear in Stiles’ liquid bright eyes. “My mother had been unfaithful. I was not my father’s child. I was the child of one of the wolves.” he watched the understanding dawn in Stiles’ expression.

“So you turned into a werewolf, even though you’d just turned into a vampire.” Klaus nodded, hope growing with the fact that Stiles was no longer silent with shock.

“Exactly. But my siblings and I - we faced many trials together. In time, our mother and father, they did not want us to live any longer. They thought we were monsters. Perhaps they were right.” he shook the thought off, turning to wave at the coffins. “These are my siblings. Hidden in both my anger and my pride.” he took both of Stiles’ hands once more, not willing to hide from his gaze. “You shared your darkest secret with me, now this is mine. My anger and my pride has kept them here.” Stiles’ fingers tightened on his own to the point where if he’d been human Klaus was fairly certain it would have hurt.

“Show me.” and Klaus moved instantly to the first coffin, opening it carefully to reveal the face of his brother, Elijah, dagger in her chest. Stiles looked between Klaus and the coffin and so he spoke once more.

“This is Elijah. He is second to Finn. Then myself, Kol, with Rebekah the youngest amongst us.” Stiles just stared into the coffin, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Then with a glance at Klaus, he reached a tentative hand towards the dagger. He moved slow enough that it would’ve been easy for a human to stop him, let alone a vampire, but Klaus did not stop him. This was what he’d hoped for after all. Even as Stiles’ hand wrapped around the hilt of the dagger he hesitated.

“Will they want to hurt you?” Klaus blinked in surprise and then couldn’t keep all of the wonder off of his face, moving closer and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips.

“Perhaps. But no more than I deserve.” Then he waved towards the coffin. “Please.” Stiles regarded him for one more moment before he nodded, and with a jerk of his wrist, pulled the dagger free. He dropped it into the coffin before moving to the next one, motions quick now. One after the other he pulled the daggers free until all four coffins were open.

“Now what?” Stiles asked, unsure, and Klaus wondered just what in the world had thought he deserved someone such as Stiles in his life.

“Now, we wait.”


	17. Fireworks

****

The first thing Elijah felt was burning hunger. Even as his senses returned to him and he took in his surroundings, all he could think of was the hunger gnawing at him. The second thing he noticed was the hummingbird heartbeat so close by, and with a snarl he was up and out of his coffin, rushing the sound. He was stopped short by the sight of Niklaus, standing protectively in front of the boy who’s heartbeat continued to thrum. This brought him to his third realization; Niklaus had once again put him in a coffin. He felt his features shift in his absolute fury, but before he could even think to attack the boy had darted forward, pushing Niklaus back, hand up towards Elijah, palm out as if that could stop him.

“Wait. Wait. It was me that let you out, okay? So maybe we can all just relax.” The boys eyes darted past him and with that he turned in time to see Rebekah standing behind him, looking disoriented. Moments later, one of the other coffins crashed to the floor and then Kol was there as well, holding himself up against the far wall, snarl on his features as he looked around. Then Finn was standing there as well and Elijah realized just what this meant. He turned back to face Niklaus and the boy now, and he only just managed to keep his tone even as he spoke, even as his gums itched with the desire to feed.

“Who are you?”

“Stiles. My name is Stiles. I - um - I’m Klaus - uh, partner? I guess?” the boy glanced back at Klaus who nodded though he kept his eyes on his siblings. “We - we were talking. And he brought me here. And we decided to remove the daggers.”

“You would have us believe that Niklaus undaggered us out of the goodness of his heart?” Kol spat, coming to stand at Elijah’s shoulder, though not moving past. Even more curious, was how the boy actually straightened, standing at his full height.

“I don’t care what you believe. That’s what happened. Take it or leave it.” Even Elijah knew better than to so taunt Kol, and so he wasn’t surprised when Kol moved to attack, his other siblings not far behind. Elijah, however, was watching Niklaus. Niklaus, who the moment Kol made to attack reached to pull the boy back - to safety - who looked panicked at the thought of this human boy getting hurt. Before he could so much as touch him though - before any of them could consider doing so, the room lit up with a burst of magic and Elijah knew if he’d moved so much as an inch he would’ve been thrown back. As soon as the brightness cleared Elijah saw the magic bursting like fireworks through the air, crackling from the tips of the boys fingers, the boy’s eyes now liquid bronze and spitting fire.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” and when he looked around, he saw his siblings standing once more, though far enough to not be an immediate threat. “Why don’t we all just play nice.” When Niklaus made to move forward, Elijah was surprised to see the boy pin him in place with only a glare. Unable to help his curiosity, Elijah spoke up once again.

“Just what would you suggest, then?” he inquired, and he felt the pull of power as the boy’s gaze settled on him once more.

“How about breakfast? We can all sit and talk around a table like civilized people.” and then he shot Niklaus another glare. “And you can pay for breakfast for dragging me into this family drama.” Elijah waited for Niklaus to snap at being ordered to do anything, but instead he inclined his head, small amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“As you wish, love.” his amusement fell though when he looked at his siblings once more, looking wary once more. “Shall we?”

Elijah straightened his jacket, looking back to meet the gaze of each of his siblings. There was fury there, in all of them, but intrigue as well. They were all curious of this boy who could curb Niklaus with just a glance.

“Lead on, brother.”


	18. Wishing

Elijah could honestly say that he’d never met another - human or otherwise - such as Stiles. Though, he also wasn’t sure that Stiles _was_ completely human. The power he controlled seem to need no spell or focus point - instead it wove itself in and out of existence at a whim. He could admire how the boy managed to keep his family in line - managed to keep them acting civil at the breakfast table. He was also mildly amused that at a wave of his hand, the contents of several blood bags filled mugs previously filled with coffee. Elijah sipped steadily on his own, hunger nearly completely gone, and watched the boy over the rim of his cup. His gaze flicked towards Niklaus, who sat as close as polite on the boy’s left, his arm curved around the back of the boy’s chair, and he knew from how the boy shifted that Niklaus kept constant contact between them. He’d been skeptical when the boy had prodded an apology out of his brother, but the longer he watched them, the more he realized this wasn’t an act. His brother simply adored this human, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was, in fact, in love. Had that softened his brother? His gaze returned to the boy, noting the dark circles under his eyes, the lack of colour in his cheeks that spoke of exhaustion. The boy had troubles, and he wondered briefly if Niklaus had brought them back in order to help with those troubles - but then he continued to watch, watch as Niklaus’ expression softened every time he looked at the boy, and how the boy simply glowed with pleasure every time he turned to Niklaus. No, he didn’t believe Niklaus had bought them back to fight his battles - he was beginning to believe he’d set them free because this boy would accept nothing but absolute honesty - and Niklaus honestly seemed to have missed them - to regret locking them away.

Elijah can’t help but be surprised that he actually wishes to know this version of his brother - but also his partner. He’s never met someone with magic such as this - which the youth was obviously only just becoming accustomed to using, but it was still a wondrous sight. The distrust that this entire meeting was just for show slowly faded as he watched the two - watched how Stiles bickered with Kol, teased Rebekah, and reposts Finn’s sharp comments with barely a thought. He would almost have thought the youth was compelled if it wasn’t for the way Niklaus was all but hanging off his every word - and that was not how his brother would ever act - especially not for someone he’d had to compel.

When Niklaus turns to meet his gaze, expression careful, but open, Elijah inclines his head, and watches his younger brother relax, leaning closer to where Stiles sat. Unconsciously, Stiles reached out, gripping Niklaus’ opposite hand and giving a squeeze even as he continued to bicker with Kol, and Elijah knew this could never be an act.

 

“You don’t have to stay you know.” Elijah turned at Stiles’ voice, lifting a brow at the words. They’d all returned to the house together after their meal, a tentative peace among them. It seemed they’d all come to the same conclusion Elijah had - this was genuine and worth at least seeing what could happen next.

“I am well aware that I have no obligations to my brother.” was his dry response, and Stiles actually rolled his eyes.

“I can see where he gets it from.” was the immediate response, and Elijah couldn’t help his surprise.

“Whatever do you mean.” and Stiles laughed, coming to join him at the window.

“The way you deflect things. Change the meaning so it sounds like something completely different than what I was saying. I meant, you know he wants you all to stay, to try and build something again, but he won’t force you too. He doesn’t want to do that anymore.”

“How can you be so sure.” and there’s no hiding the contempt in his voice. “I’ve known my brother far longer than you’ve been on this earth.” but rather than get offended, Stiles shrugged.

“True, but I care about him because I can, not because I feel like I have to. Changes how I see things.” he gave a wry smile. “You can love and hate someone at the same time.” and Elijah just stared, knowing it was true but also not knowing how to respond.

“How do you know he wishes us to stay?” he finally asked, and this time when Stiles turned to him, some of the power glowed in his eyes.

“I can show you.” and before he could think to speak, the air was filled with his power - but this time there was no bright flash, no force. There was just a soft melody - an almost shimmer to the air as it filled the hall. He closed his eyes against it, knowing he didn’t need his sight to see what Stiles wished to share. Instead, he listened to the melody, felt as the magic whispered against his skin.

When the music faded, he opened his eyes, and offered the boy a soft smile.

“I think, for now perhaps, I would like to stay.” and with a nod to Stiles, he moved further into the house. He was soothed in a way he had not felt in decades. The boy had imparted not only his brother’s feelings; his longings and desire - but also some of his own. He knew now, without a doubt, that this boy loved his brother.

 

Kol watched from the shadows as Elijah left Stiles alone in the corridor and could only stare. He too had been able to feel what the boy had shared - he too could feel what Niklaus felt towards them - the guilt, the anger, the fear, but most importantly the love - and he could feel that same bright emotion just pulsing from this boy for his brother. With a sigh, he disappeared back into the shadows before anyone could catch sight of him. He was under no illusion of just what this boy was - knew the touch of a Spark, however rare they may be. He knew they could not be compelled, knew they were strong enough to not only end life, but also create it with but a wish. He also knew, that Sparks healed without knowing; because what they created in their surroundings were balance. Any imbalances, whether mental, physical, or emotional, would soothe over time in the presence of a Spark, and as soon as he’d realized just what the boy was he knew Niklaus spoke the truth. He couldn’t help his grin as he went off to find his sister. Who would have thought, the great Niklaus Mikaelson being brought down by something as silly as loving a human Spark?


	19. Happy Birthday

When Stiles stepped into the kitchen the conversation abruptly cut off as both Rebekah and Kol turned to look at him. Suspicious, Stiles narrowed his eyes at them even as he made his way towards the coffee maker. It had been a few months since they’d come back from their semi dead state and while things had been a bit rocky at first they’d smoothed out fairly well which only made this whispering more suspicious.

“What are you two up to?”

“Nothing at all, darling.” Kol said brightly, coming over to swing an arm around his shoulder and guide him towards the table in the kitchen where a cup of coffee already sat prepared with a plate of fresh pancakes. Stiles blinked down at the food before turning a once more suspicious gaze at Kol as he was pushed into the seat, Kol dropping down across from him.

“Is it so odd that we might want to do something nice for our favourite human?” he asked, and Stiles snorted out a laugh.

“Please. The day you stop trying to cause mischief is the day I’ll believe that.” Kol pouted a moment but it faded the moment Stiles gave in and took a bite of the pancakes, washing it down with a sip of his coffee.

“These are actually pretty good.” he admitted, and Rebekah preened at the words.

“Made them myself.” she said, dropping into another chair with a bright smile. Stiles returned her expression easily.

“Oh, not suspicious of our dear sister then? Who’s to say she wasn’t trying to poison you?” Stiles rolled his eyes at Kol’s antics.

“Please. Rebekah loves me. I’m her favourite brother after all. I took her shopping when she rejoined this century.” Kol made a sound of disgust at the mention of shopping and Stiles grinned around another bite of pancakes.

“Exactly.” when he settled back to drink his coffee, he looked around in mild surprise.

“Where is everyone else? Klaus was already gone when I woke up and I haven’t seen Elijah or Finn. I thought Finn and I were going to the bookstore today.”

“Elijah needed his help with some last minute thing.” Kol said with a careless wave of his hand. “Now that he’s back he can’t seem to keep out of politics of any sort.” that earned him another eye roll but Stiles didn’t argue.

“I do believe Niklaus needed new paint.” Rebekah added then. “Apparently the gold he had wasn’t gold enough.” she huffed, and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. In temperament, all of the younger Mikaelson’s were quite similar, not that he’d admit that to Klaus. Then Rebekah was perking up and Stiles was instantly wary. “Speaking of shopping, Stiles, Niklaus mentioned that your favourite grocery was near this lovely little wine shop and since you needed food I thought we could take a trip there. I would like to see if there’s still anything I recognize.” Stiles shrugged, finishing his coffee, but before he could stand to take them to the sink, Kol had done so for him.

“Well off you two go then, best to get these things done early before the rush.” and he was shooing Stiles out of the kitchen. Bemused, Stiles just went along with it, but he couldn’t help but think something was still a little strange.

 

>>>

 

“See anything you like?” Stiles asked as he browsed the shelves of wine. None of them were the kind of thing he would’ve even thought to look at before, but ever since Klaus, he’d been taught to appreciate some of the finer things in life. Even just having the thought had him grinning widely at the shelves. Rebekah hummed from across the shop, and when he glanced over she seemed to be debating between two different bottles. Shaking his head he pulled out his phone and then just stared. His calendar app had sent him a notification and even as he slid it open he knew what it would say.

 

_who knew I’d live this long? happy 19th to me_

 

He couldn’t help but stare. It was his birthday and he’d completely forgotten. Not only had he forgotten, but he hadn’t heard from his Dad. He and his Dad had a long standing habit of waking each other up exactly at midnight on their respective birthdays to wish each other happy birthday, and the fact that he hadn’t heard from him had his insides twisting uncomfortably. Maybe his Dad was just on a really important case, he reasoned. He’d call as soon as he could. Feeling self-conscious now he glanced back at Rebekah. It wasn’t like he’d expected anything from her - from any of them really - but he was pretty sure Klaus knew when his birthday was. He shook his head. He was being silly. It was just a birthday. It wasn’t like they didn’t do special things together all the time. But he couldn’t quite shake the feeling.

“Stiles?” he shoved his phone back into his pocket, plastering a smile onto his face as he turned to Rebekah.

“Sorry, what?” but Rebekah was frowning at him, lips pursed.

“Are you alright?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m a-ok. Did you find what you need? It’s cool, take your time. But not too long. Don’t wanna leave the groceries for too long. I’m going to wait in the car, okay?” and before she could even answer he was shoving his hands in his pockets and hurrying out the door.

The moment he stepped outside, Rebekah pulled out her phone, dialling Niklaus’ number.

“I think he’s remembered what day it is. He just left for the car looking quite upset. Is everything ready?” she paused, taking the wine she wanted to the counter. “Excellent. We’re on our way back.”

 

Stiles didn’t want to be moody. He really tried to keep up with Rebekah’s bubbly chatter on the way home, but the more she laughed and joked, the lower he felt. He knew _he’d_ forgotten it was his birthday, but it hurt that they’d forgotten too. Which was ridiculous, really, but he couldn’t help the little bit of hurt. This was the first time in a long time where he’d felt like he belonged - where he felt like he had a family that was bigger than just him and his Dad - and realistically he did, these people, he really did consider them his - but that didn’t lessen the sting. He chided himself for being so bent out of shape over a birthday, after all, these were the Original Vampires - they were over a thousand years old, they probably hadn’t celebrated a birthday in centuries! and here he was, getting moody over the fact that he was turning 19. Really, he wasn’t even legally old enough to drink.

“Don’t worry about the groceries, Stiles. Why don’t you just go on inside? I do believe Niklaus is home.” Stiles nodded, offering a small smile as he made his way up the front steps, feeling stupider and stupider with every step. He stepped inside to find the front hall completely dark and huffed out a breath, moving to the light switch, leaving the door open behind him to let the daylight in so he wouldn’t be completely in the dark. When he hit the switch though it didn’t work and he frowned.

“Bekah, the lights are down - can you check the breakers? I can’t see a thing!” Carefully, he made his way towards the kitchen where he knew there were flashlights in the bottom drawer at his insistence just for this purpose. “Of course the power had to go out today of all days.” he grumbled, feeling his way carefully along the wall. He could see a faint light coming from the kitchen and called out.

“Klaus, are you in the kitchen?”

“Yes, come on in, love. Power will be back in a minute, promise.” and Stiles grumbled under his breath but made his way into the kitchen. As soon as he reached the doorway, he froze on the spot.

“Happy birthday!” came the chorused greeting, and Stiles knew he was probably grinning like a lunatic but he couldn’t help himself. His Dad was standing next to Klaus behind a giant cake with Kol, Elijah, Rebekah, and Finn all behind them, all smiling warmly at him. His Dad was the first to move, coming round the table and grabbing him in a tight hug. Stiles just laughed, completely thrilled as he hugged his Dad just as tight.

“Didn’t think we’d forgotten, did you?” he teased, and Stiles couldn’t help his blush as Klaus swooped in to kiss his senseless. Then he was dragged into Rebekah’s arms for a hug of her own, Kol ruffling his hair. He laughed again, positively beaming, and Finn disappeared only for the lights to turn back on before the eldest Mikaelson was offering him a kind smile and a hand on his shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, Stiles, and to many more.” He nodded, still beaming, and when he turned he saw Elijah standing by the cake still, smile of his own in place.

“Come. We’ve made arrangements for dinner, but we knew you would prefer to start with dessert.” Since it was true Stiles didn’t bother arguing, skipping over to the cake. When he was offered the cake knife, he was quick to cut into it. He should’ve known better than to think they’d ever forget anything he found important. These people had chosen him as much as he’d chosen them, and that was the best birthday present he could’ve asked for.


	20. Tomorrow

“Stiles?” Klaus called out, frowning when no answer came. He knew Stiles was home, had seen his car in the drive, and yet he couldn’t find the younger man anywhere.

“He went for a walk.” Finn cut in, interrupting his thoughts, and when Klaus turned to shoot him a look, Finn sighed. “To the graveyard.” Klaus’ expression immediately dropped and Finn moved forward to clasp a supportive hand on Klaus’ shoulder.

“How long has he been out there?”

“Not too long yet. Kol was going to give it another hour before he interrupted.” Klaus sighed, shaking his head.

“Will you tell him I’ve gone?” and Finn nodded.

“Of course.” then he paused, and this was where the uncertainty still lay between them, the residual awkwardness of not having spoken in centuries. “If there’s anything you need,” he trailed off, and Klaus managed a smile.

“Thank you, brother. However, I don’t think this will be something so easily fixed.” Finn nodded, understanding perfectly, and so Klaus made his way outside and towards the graveyard.

 

He found Stiles easily, huddled into one of Klaus’ jackets as he always did when he was particularly unhappy, something that Klaus never ceased to find endearing, and dropped down to sit next to him on the ground, staring out at the graves. Klaus didn’t speak, just lifted his arm, and Stiles was quick to move closer, tucking himself into Klaus’ side. They sat in silence, staring at the graves for the better part of an hour, before Stiles finally shifted.

“I’m scared.” he murmured, voice so quiet were Klaus not supernatural he never would have heard it. But, as he was supernatural, and he understood exactly what Stiles was scared of, he nodded.

“As am I.”

“What happens if I die?” Stiles asked, voice cracking, though there were no tears on his cheeks, only an eerie blankness to his expression. “What would happen to me then?”

“You would go to the other side of the veil.” that had Stiles’ interest, and he tilted his head ever so slightly so he could see Klaus’ face.

“The veil?”

“Only humans move on - find oblivion. I cannot say for certain as I’ve never encountered a Spark nearing the end of their life, nor have I communicated with one on the other side - but vampires, werewolves, witches, and the like - we go to the other side of the veil. Cursed to wander alone, for eternity. Stiles shuddered and Klaus pulled him closer.

“That’s terrifying.”

“Only if we die.” Klaus countered, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You can’t say you won’t.”

“I am an Original, love. We are incredibly difficult to kill.” then he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ head. “And anyone who would wish to harm you, would have to fight its way through us first.” Stiles shook his head, but one hand had shifted to grip the front of Klaus’ shirt in a tight fist.

“What if I grow old?” Klaus wouldn’t lie and say he was surprised this was a concern Stiles had come to have. While Stiles was younger still then Rebekah had been when she was turned, it was only just, and the knowledge that he would age past the people he’d surrounded himself with would be distressing.

“I’ve had a lot of time to consider this.” Klaus admits out loud, leaning his cheek against the top of Stiles’ head. When he didn’t continue right away, Stiles poked a finger into his side earning a soft chuckle. “Alright, alright. I was just going to say - if there comes a day where you’re truly concerned,” he paused, trying to find a delicate way to phrase it. “About your mortality,” he settled on, knowing there was no real way to be delicate about a subject such as this. “We can speak further of it. But perhaps, one day, you would consider, or perhaps even like to - become as I am.” he paused once more, hesitant, but for a completely different reason. Because now he was imagining a life without Stiles in it. “Immortal.” the only response he got was the tightening of Stiles’ hand on his shirt, and once again they sat in silence.

“Maybe one day.” came the murmured reply, hours later, and Klaus closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the man in his arms. He hoped that he would be able to respect Stiles’ wishes if he chose to remain mortal - to age and to die - but he worried that it would be one thing he would not be able to do. 


	21. Oppression

“I’m going to the post office! Anybody need anything from town?” Stiles shouted, keys in hand as he headed for the door. When nobody answered he shrugged, knowing that meant they did not, in fact, need anything from town. That didn’t slow him down though. He’d ordered a few books weeks ago and they’d finally arrived - he couldn’t wait to get his hands on them. Well. Glove covered hands. Speaking of, he needed to pick up more gloves. With all the weird supplies he bought, he wondered if the people at the stores around town thought he was a serial killer. Then he realized, considering who he lived with, he was probably the least of everyones worries. Especially considering the fact that the entire town seemed to be vampire savvy.

“Perhaps you’d like to take Rebekah with you.” Klaus interrupted his thoughts from the top of the steps. Stiles waved him off.

“Nah, I’m going to Jeremy’s after. We’re just going to be playing video games, she’d get bored.”

“If you give me a few moments I could accompany you.” Klaus argued instead, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, it’s fine.” but even as he went to open the door, Klaus was right in front of him, blocking his path. Too used to vampire speed to be even remotely surprised, Stiles just made to move around him. When Klaus actively blocked his way once more, Stiles huffed out a breath, glaring. “What’s your problem?”

“It isn’t safe for you to go by yourself.” Klaus stated, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I stopped your four Original Vampire siblings from draining me dry when they woke up starving. I think I can manage.”

“But I was with you. I could have stopped them if they’d truly wished to attack you.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re not actually the oldest.” Stiles shot back. “And you’re good, but 4 against 1 on an equal playing field? You’re not that good.” Klaus glowered.

“You won’t be going alone.” Stiles’ eyebrows shot up and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“You know I’m not, so asking is just to irritate me. You won’t be going alone. Either myself or one of my siblings will accompany you, but it isn’t safe for you to be alone.”

“First of all, I’m going to Jeremy’s house. I’d like to remind you that he actually stopped Stefan from attacking me, and he’d do it again. I know he’s some sort of weird vampire hunter, so he’s fast enough to do it. That is to say, if I didn’t burn whoever tried to attack me to a crisp before they could even think of touching me.” he unfolded his arms so he could jab a finger at Klaus’ chest.

“Second of all, you need to actually spend time with your family without me around. Don’t get me wrong, I love your family, but I’m not the one who kept them in boxes for years on end. You need to bond and all that shit.” at the mention of the coffins Klaus’ eyes narrowed.

“Have you forgotten that Damon tortured you to near death?”

“Have _you_ forgotten that I didn’t really know how to use my Spark then? I’ve been practicing and you know it.” then Stiles went for another weak shot. “And don’t you think I should finally get around to dealing with my apartment? I haven’t actually stepped foot in there for months and it doesn’t make sense for me to be paying that much money for glorified storage space.”

For a moment Klaus couldn't even think of a response. He was _thrilled_ Stiles wanted to give up the apartment - it was something he’d wanted practically since the beginning. Despite the fact that he knew Stiles wasn’t about to leave him, the apartment was a reminder that he _could_. The thought that Stiles would want to give it out, without him even having said anything about it, was wonderful but -

“I could help you. With the boxes.” Stiles’ scowl became nearly murderous.

“Why don’t you trust me?” the silence that followed the demand nearly rang with it and Klaus could only stare, shocked. Then his own anger flooded forward. How could Stiles ever doubt his trust? Even as he opened his mouth to shout back, Stiles was shouting over him. “I’m not a kid, okay? I don’t need everyone babysitting me. Stop - stop suffocating me!” and he bodily shoved Klaus out of the way, storming off down the drive. Even as the car started Klaus made to give chase but a hand on his arm stopped him. He spun round to see Elijah, but before he could lash out, Elijah gave a gentle squeeze.

“Stiles is right.” the words had Klaus reeling, and he just stared at his older brother, hurt that his brother would take Stiles’ side. “If you want to convince him that you trust him, you have to give him the privacy he craves. Privacy he deserves.”

“He knows that I trust him.” Klaus bit out, because the accusation had hurt. Hurt that Stiles would think even for a moment he didn’t trust him.

“Do you though, if you won’t even allow him to visit with a friend unaccompanied?” Elijah asked gently. “He has no desire to spend his life with anyone but you, but Stiles is and will always be a wandering spirit. Cutting him off from that will only serve to hurt him and drive him away.” and Klaus knew Elijah was right - knew in this moment this was almost exactly what he’d realized when he’d first considered bringing his family back from their stasis. That they deserved to have their own lives outside of him and each other, because he’d found one and understood the draw of it. If he would deny Stiles of it now, even for his own protection, he would have learned nothing. Expression falling, Klaus closed the front door, though his hand was tight on the handle.

“Come, Niklaus, tell me of some of your antics while I was - indisposed.” and there was an irony in Elijah’s voice Klaus didn’t miss. Offering a tired smile, Klaus followed Elijah into the drawing room, settling into a chair to complain about the antics of the Salvatore’s and the Doppelgänger - but his thoughts didn’t stray far from Stiles. He does, however, settle on the fact that Stiles hadn’t been altogether wrong - whether or not he trusted Stiles, he’d been acting as if he didn’t by not allowing him any freedom. He vowed not to make that mistake again.


	22. Agony

“You owe me about a month’s worth of curly fries.” Stiles snickered, controller in hand, and Jeremy groaned, tossing his own on the table as his character died again.

“How did you get so good at this?” he demanded, and Stiles just snickered again, setting his own controller down so he could grab a strand of licorice.

“Mad skills. This game is great. I think I might actually like it better than the first one.” Jeremy gave an exaggerated gasp just to make Stiles laugh.

“Blasphemy. Original or nothing.” that only had Stiles laughing harder, because that was a sentiment Stiles could completely agree with. Realizing his mistake, Jeremy made a face of disgust. “Aw, come on, gross. Not what I meant at all.” and he made a fake gagging noise that just had Stiles clutching at his sides.

“You started it.” he shot back, unrepentant. Though that did remind him of the fact that he had, in fact, left things in a fight. His smile fell and Jeremy nudged their shoulders together.

“Cheer up. He’ll get over it. I’ve never seen Klaus that interested in anyone. There was that one time with Caroline, but he still nearly killed her twice.” Stiles wasn’t sure he would ever _not_ find it weird that Jeremy was cool with all of this, but he supposed since apparently Damon (who was dating Elena now after her and Stefan broke up for like the 6th time and Stiles thought that was way more icky than him dating someone hundreds of years older than him) had killed him in a fit of jealousy and Elena was still dating the older vampire, so he guessed talking about Klaus was way less weird. He shook the rambling thought away, scooping the controller off the table again, ready to start the next round. Even as Jeremy joined him, he sighed.

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t know he’ll get over it, I do. He’s just trying to keep me safe and like, I get it. I have really bad luck when it comes to kidnapping and torture.” Jeremy snorted out a laugh but Stiles ignored him. “But the thing is, I’m not going to live in a cage. I’d literally go insane.”

“I hear you.” when Stiles killed his character again, Jeremy gave up, turning to face him on the couch, expression serious. “So what are you going to do?”

“What _can_ I do?”

“Well, you could leave.” when Stiles rolled his eyes Jeremy grinned, shrugging a shoulder. “One thing I’ve learned about vampires, is that they respond real well to shows of strength.” even as the words left his lips, Jeremy was putting up his hands in protest, knowing his friend well enough to know how he’d take his words. “That doesn’t mean going and picking a fight!” he immediately countered. “It just means next time you get into one, you make sure you win.” Stiles pouted at him but didn’t argue, sinking back into the couch.

“If I end up in some sort of weird cage you better come break me out.”

“That sounds like some weird kink thing and I don’t want anything to do with whatever you and Klaus get up to.” Stiles snickered again, throwing a skittle at Jeremy in retaliation and hitting him square in the forehead. Jeremy blinked in surprise before a wicked grin spread across his features.

“Oh, you’re so on, Stilinski.”

 

>>>

 

Stiles was still chuckling about the food fight as he made his way to his jeep, raking a hand through his hair and grimacing when it came away sticky and covered in sugar. He really needed a shower. Catching sight of his reflection in the window he couldn’t help but laugh at how his hair was standing straight up in every direction thanks to all the sugar and he wondered what everyone would think he’d gotten up to when he got home. He was fairly certain they wouldn’t be surprised if he said food fight. Pleased, he dug into his pocket for his keys.

He felt the difference before he saw him, and he spun before hands could even touch him, throwing a palm out. His Spark hummed and then flared out - throwing Damon back across the lawn from where he’d been about to grab Stiles by the throat. The vampire groaned, getting instantly to his feet and offering a sneer.

“Not as human as you claimed.” he shot out and Stiles rolled his eyes. One hand still facing Damon, he threw the other one out, clenching it in a fist and then yanking his arm around as if he was throwing something, and Stefan went flying through the air to crash into his brother.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? Messing with me is not a smart option.”

“I got you before. Klaus isn’t here to help you this time.” Stiles’ grin turned vicious.

“What makes you think I need him to kick your ass?” with a wave of his hand, Damon collapsed in agony, the bones in his legs shattering. He turned to Stefan, eyes glowing in the dark. His grin grew feral. “Come on then, what are you waiting for?”

 

>>>

 

The Nogitsune watched from the shadows as Stiles took on the vampires, easily overpowering them. His Stiles had grown so much, he mused, fond. He couldn’t help but feel proud to have brought forth this strength - this power. He knew that Stiles never would have realized it as quickly if at all if it hadn’t been for him. He was actually glad he hadn’t been able to kill the boy. If he had, he never would’ve been able to witness this, but more than that, he never would have been able to claim him as his own. With this power? The Nogitsune watched as Stiles turned on his heel, leaving the vampires behind broken and powerless, and he _yearned_.

 

>>>

 

“Honey, I’m home!” Stiles called out, giddy on sugar and adrenaline, and Klaus appeared mere moments later, expression carefully blank as he regarded Stiles. Stiles just grinned up at him, pupils dilated, grin a touch wild. “I had way too much sugar.” he admitted, hands barely steady as he locked the door behind him. “And then I probably shouldn’t have gotten into a fight but I couldn’t help it and the adrenaline rush has kind of made me loopy?” he admitted, giving a near hysterical laugh. Klaus was in front of him in an instant, cupping his face, looking him over for injury. He didn’t miss his siblings appearing as well, worrying for this human.

“Who did you fight?”

“Oh, the Salvatores. They tried to jump me when I left Jeremy’s house.” even through the haze of sugar and adrenaline and exhaustion, there was no missing the viciousness of Stiles’ expression. “I beat the shit out of them. With my Spark. It was very satisfying. I left them broken on Jeremy’s lawn. I took a picture.” he fumbled for his phone then, cursing his shaky hands as he opened his phone to show Klaus the picture. Klaus’ eyebrows climbed his forehead and he couldn’t help but look back to Stiles, exasperated.

“You didn’t have to do this.” he mused, and Stiles shrugged, but the motion was sharp, jittery still.

“You said I couldn’t protect myself.” and they both knew it wasn’t what Klaus had said, but he had implied it. “And I can.” the words were fierce, unarguable. Then he leaned into Klaus, and he finally, finally gave into the shakes as Klaus pulled him in and the adrenaline started to wear off. “But I guess I don’t mind that you want to protect me either.” and that, Klaus knew, was the best compromise they could hope to come to. Exchanging quiet looks with his sibling to show that Stiles was alright and he would take care of him, he then guided Stiles towards the stairs, never letting go of him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I’m pretty sure I have sugar in places you should never have sugar.” and Klaus couldn’t help his laugh.

“Only you.”


	23. Return

Stiles opened the front door, nose practically pressed to the screen of his phone as he tried to make out the script of the manuscript one of his contacts had sent him, and so he didn’t see the figure standing on the front step until they spoke.

“Hello, Stiles.” he froze, fear registering before anything else, and even as he looked up, looked into his own eyes, he was stumbling back, his heartbeat pounding in his ears so quickly he could hardly make out the individual beats. He wondered if he was having a heart attack. If maybe it was possible to flatlining from speed rather than his from his heart stopping. He would’ve laughed at the thought if he wasn’t so terrified.

“We killed you.” he managed, but his breath was barely even coming in gasps, and his vision was already starting to grey. The Nogitsune stepped up to the front door but didn’t step through, looking curiously at the doorframe.

“This is very clever, Stiles. Do your Originals know you’ve warded the house? It’s with intent, yes? Anyone who would harm the residents can’t get in?” he turned his gaze back to Stiles, wide, unfamiliar grin splitting his features, and Stiles shuddered, trying to breathe past the tightness in his chest.

Obviously having heard his panic, Kol appeared first, eyes wild as he took in Stiles falling back onto the stairs before he spun, facing the front door. There was a noticeable moment where he went absolutely still, recognizing Stiles’ body on the other side of the door before his hands clenched in fists.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, didn’t Stiles tell you?” The Nogitsune asked, pouting slightly, but there was cruel laughter in his eyes. “I’m his Demon. You know, that thing he screams about at night? His worst nightmares? Those are about me.” the pout twisted into a cutting grin. “I’ve come back for what’s mine.” even as he said the words, Stiles was being helped to his feet and Klaus was there, snarl on his features as he pushed Stiles behind him. He immediately found himself leaning on Rebekah for support, and now, with Elijah and Finn stepping forward, making a wall between him and the Nogitsune, he could finally breathe. Finally felt safe despite the fact that his worst fear was standing on the front steps.

“He does not belong to you.” Klaus snarled, and the Nogitsune laughed, the sound like breaking glass.

“Oh, is that what you think, hybrid? You think that because you’ve claimed him as your mate he’s all yours.” He slammed a hand towards the empty doorway, palm cracking against an invisible barrier, and Stiles felt his chest loosen just a little more that the wards were working. The Nogitsune, despite not being able to get in, looked pleased. “You’re wrong. Stiles is mine. He was mine the second I stepped into his mind.” Stiles knew his own face enough to know the sly smirk was about to lead to something none of them wanted to hear - a taunt that already had ice sliding down Stiles’ skin. “Did you know I only look like Stiles now because we once shared a body?” and he flinched back at the words, watched Klaus stiffen with rage. “I lived in that brilliant mind of his. I tore it to pieces and he still managed to put it back together. That kind of fight - that _spark -_ is just delicious.” and Stiles recoiled at the words, at the realization that the Nogitsune knew he had control of his Spark, gripping Rebekah’s arm tightly. His heartbeat was picking up again and he was pretty sure he was going to throw up.

“This is a nightmare.” he managed to say. Shaking his head even as everyone’s gaze turned to him. Klaus was by his side in an instant, concern clear. “I watched you _die_. We _killed_ you.” and now Stiles was angry. “This is just a nightmare.” and he was convincing himself because this had to be the truth. “I’m going to wake up and you’re going to be gone.” the Nogitsune laughed, a full bodied laugh, and when he met Stiles’ gaze, he was fond. That, more than anything, told Stiles this was real, because the fondness was new, it was disgusting, and even in his nightmares he’d never imagined anything as horrifying as the Nogitsune wanting to do anything but kill him.

“You know, your Spark is almost strong enough for that to be true. You’re almost strong enough to bend reality to your will. And you know what? Once you’re mine again, we’ll make certain that it will be.” Then his gaze turned to the Originals, and the fondness was gone, replaced by a bloodthirsty show of teeth. “If you choose to stand in my way, I will end you. He is _mine_ and I’ll have him even if I have to tear you all apart with my bare hands to get to him. In fact, I’d love to do nothing more.”

“You may be able to scare humans with your age and experience, but to us, you are still but a child, and you will be as easy to break as one.” Elijah replied, flicking invisible dust off the cuff of his jacket. He sounded nearly bored, and Stiles knew it was a carefully practiced tone to anger the enemy. He couldn’t help but be impressed when it worked because the Nogitsune snarled and then stepped back. He made eye contact with Stiles, taunting him with a wink, and then disappeared on the spot. The moment he was gone, Stiles began to shake, stomach churning, and it was only Rebekah’s grip that had him on his feet. The door slammed closed and his gaze shot up to see Kol had shut it. Then they were all watching him with various levels of concern, but it was Klaus who stepped forward, who pulled him into his arms.

“I don’t know how this happened, but I promise you, we will kill him.” but Stiles was shaking his head, confused and terrified.

“We killed him. We killed him and the last - the _fly_ was caught. Isaac caught it.” then he went stiff, pulling back to look at them all gaze wild. “Deaton had it. What if he freed it.” he went pale and he looked moments from being ill. “What if they’re angry at me and they freed it because they knew it would come after me?” he shuddered again in Klaus’ hold. “I’m the only one it possessed that ever survived. He’s not going to stop until he kills me.” and then he pushed away from Klaus, wildness back in his gaze as he backed away from all of them.

“He’s going to kill all of you. Just like - just like Allison. He’s going to kill everyone to get to me.” he was shaking again and he brought his hands up in front of his face, counting his fingers out loud. “8, 9, 10.” and he paused, breath freezing in his lungs. “10. This isn’t a dream. This is real.” his hands went to his hair, tugging - too tight - and when he finally looked back towards them all, there was a despair in his gaze none of them had ever expected to see.

“Stiles.” Kol’s voice was sharp as he stepped forward, gripping his shoulders and giving a shake. “Snap out of it. Nothing’s going to happen to us, or you.” he said firmly, expression fierce. Stiles blinked as he stared at Kol, hands coming up to grip onto his forearms. “Did you hear me?” Kol demanded, but his voice had softened, and Stiles nodded.

“I - I heard you.” Kol nodded, satisfied, but he didn’t let go.

“It came here today to scare you. Because that’s all it can do.” and that had everyone looking sharply at Kol.

“What do you mean that’s all it can do?” Klaus demanded, and Kol shot his brother a smirk, pleased to know something he didn’t. The absolute normalcy of the look had Stiles choking out a laugh. Kol spared him a smile of his own before he released Stiles’ shoulders, turning slightly to face his brother.

“Did you not notice how he couldn’t get in?” and Klaus rolled his eyes, lips curling in a sneer. “Brilliant work, by the way.” Kol complimented, earning a tired smile from Stiles. “When it touched the barrier, it’s form faded ever so slightly.” Stiles hadn’t noticed, so he looked to Elijah, because he trusted Elijah to always notice those things. Having sensed his gaze, Elijah looked back towards him, giving a slow nod to Kol’s words.

“I saw that.” Elijah admitted. “I thought it may have been the wards in action. As it is, we’ve never seen them work before.” That had Finn cutting in.

“The types of runes Stiles used, I researched them with him.” Finn added, offering Stiles a nod of support. “They should never visually alter anything. That is not their purpose. And we did not research any runes to reveal the truth of ones appearance or any such thing.” he looked to Stiles for confirmation and the youth nodded slowly.

“Finn’s right. It should’ve basically been an invisible wall. Which is was. Which means whatever you saw, it was real.” he looked back at Kol, feeling a bit desperate, and the youngest brother gave a firm nod.

“I saw it. As did Elijah.”

“That’s all well in good, but what does it mean?” Rebekah interrupted, speaking for the first time and out of patience. “Will he still be able to hurt Stiles?”

“Maybe. But not yet I don’t think.” then he winced. “Eventually.” he admitted, but Elijah brushed that off with an elegant wave of his hand.

“That hardly matters then. What matters is now. He isn’t fully formed. What does that mean?”

“The veil.” and that had everyone blinking in surprise.

“You mean where supernatural things go when they die?” Stiles asked slowly, and Kol nodded. “It’s been thinning. For years. It was only a spell, see. To curse us to spend eternity alone when we died. According to legend, the curse was placed by a jealous woman, not wanting the source of her affection to find happiness with another when she herself was alone. So she created the veil and killed both the one she loved and his lover - cursing them to an eternity alone.” Stiles just stared, mouth agape. When he snapped it closed, he scowled.

“That’s just a story.”

“All stories are based on truth.” Kol countered, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“How does that help us now?”

“No spell can last forever.” Finn noted, voice soft, drawing all attention to himself. Also effectively ending the argument. “If the veil truly was a spell, then it could be coming to the end of its lifespan. Needing to either be dispelled or re-cast.

“What happens if we dispel it?” Rebekah asked, curious, and Finn could only shake his head.

“It’s impossible to tell. It could mean there would no longer be an endless plane of the lonely wandering left on the other side. It could also mean that all the dead return to life. Permanently.”

“That wouldn’t make any sense.” Kol argued immediately. “The dead don’t reanimate.” at the words, he was shot a look from every direction. With an eyeroll, he added “Twice.”

“So you think if we broke the spell, everyone would just get to move on. To die and not wander forever alone.” Kol nodded. Then-

“Wait.” and all eyes turned to Klaus. “I wish to clarify. If we are speaking of the veil in regards to taking care of the Nogitsune, would it be wrong to say we all agree he is still dead, and only just trying to reach over from the other side?” every vampire nodded in sync, Stiles could’ve cried in relief.

“So he’s still dead.” now Stiles’ resolve hardened, “All we’ve got to do is keep him that way.”


	24. Protection

Stiles shook out his hands, ignoring the sting of his skin. It was all but rubbed raw from moulding the protection charms, but he was satisfied with the results which made the pain worth it. After all, anything that would protect these people he considered him was worth a little bit of pain.

Careful now, he picked up the corded bracelet, the leather dark and soft, and poked at the tiny bead that he’d formed from the chunk of metal. He’d formed all the beads from the same chunk of metal so that they would all be connected as well, and when he felt the thrum of his own power connected to the bead at his prodding, he grinned. Scooping all the bracelets off of the table he’d been working at, he left the room, looking for any and all of the other residents.

“If everybody could meet me in the kitchen that would be great!” he called out, making his way to the room in question. Now that he was done working, he realized he was starving and tried to remember when he’d last eaten. He knew Klaus had tried to bother him about lunch but he’d waved the other off, not wanting to stop and lose his focus.

When he reached the kitchen, he found everyone else had already gathered and beamed at them.

“Oh good. Okay. So, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed I’ve been working on such stuff and I finally finished.” he presented the bracelets with a flourish. “These are for you. You have to wear them. I don’t care if it clashes with your fashion statement.” he said lightly, handing each of his housemates a bracelet.

“What is it for?” Klaus asked, and Stiles grinned.

“Well, I’m glad you asked. For one, it makes you impossible to track. Also, if anyone were to attack you, then not only will it offer a momentary barrier to give you a chance to escape, but the bead on everyone else’s should get all hot. To let us know someone’s in trouble.” There were looks of surprise and a little bit of awe. It had Stiles flushing. “So yeah, anyways. Basically, it’s just to keep you guys safe. Since the thing that wants to hurt you is here because of me and all.” and he rubbed the back of his head with one hand, feeling awkward. He immediately winced, yanking his hand away, the friction of his hair against his palm too much for the sensitive skin. Between one blink and the next, Klaus’ hands were around his wrists, displaying his hands, palm up. At the sight of them, red, raw, and nearly bloody, Klaus scowled.

“You did not have to go to so much trouble for us.” and Stiles scowled right back.

“Of course I did. Don’t be stupid.” Knowing neither would back down, Elijah stepped forward, interrupting.

“Thank you, Stiles.” and Stiles offered a small smile in response.

“You’re welcome.” then he looked at Klaus, haughty brow raised. “See, someone is grateful for my effort.”

“Quite.” Finn agreed, the faintest bit of amusement clear in his features. “In fact, if my memory is correct, I know a recipe for a balm that will help the pain in your hands. If you would collect some bandaging, I will prepare it for you.” Stiles nodded eagerly. Though he’d been willing to endure the pain since it was the result of such good work, he saw no reason to force himself if there was a way around it. Without an ounce of hesitation, he darted from the room.

“I would appreciate if you did not encourage him to hurt himself.” Klaus growled, but Kol rolled his eyes.

“Please, brother. He would do so whether we encouraged him or not. It doesn’t hurt us any to show him the kindness of giving our thanks. It only shows him that we appreciate what he’s willing to do for us.” Klaus’ scowl darkened.

“He wouldn’t-”

“Yes, he would.” Rebekah interrupted, voice soft. She ran her fingers gently over the bead, almost able to feel Stiles’ Spark. When she looked up, she could only offer sympathy. “He would because he cares far too much not to. It’s for that very same reason that none of us like that he would hurt himself, but know he’ll only be less honest about it in the future if we scold him for it.” when Klaus’ shoulders slumped, ever so slightly, Elijah spoke.

“We understand your reluctance for him to come to harm, Niklaus. We too would see him safe.”

“We can protect him as he protects us.” Finn said then, small smile still on his face as he toyed with the bracelet. “Though I already held every intention of doing so.”

“He may be yours first and foremost, Nik, but he is ours now too.” Kol added. It was not something Klaus could contest, not when it was clear Stiles felt the same way. Really, it was why he’d told Stiles all those months ago about his family - why he’d allowed him to pull the daggers free. Even as he had the thought, Stiles came skidding back into the room, a roll of bandaging in hand.

“Found it!” he crowed, and Finn offered him the same smile, moving to help him.

“Good. Follow me, then.” Stiles nodded, but not before darting forward to press a quick kiss to Klaus’ lips.

“Can we get dinner after? I really want pizza.” and Klaus sighed, but gave in with a nod. Kol clapped a hand on Klaus’ shoulder with a grin as Stiles disappeared after Finn.

“I’ll go to town to pick it up then, shall I?” he chuckled, and Klaus rolled his eyes. His family was right, Stiles would do whatever was in his power to protect them just as they would for him, and there was no point in trying to fight it. Especially when being able to do so made him this happy. With another sigh, he followed after where Stiles and Finn had gone. It would probably be best for him to learn this recipe as well, after all, there was no telling how often Stiles might need it.


	25. Boxes

When Klaus first steps into his bedroom - and really it was their bedroom now - he could do nothing more than stop and stare. There were boxes everywhere - and from the looks of it, they were all full. Unable to help himself he moved further into the room, moving to the box sitting on the bed. When he opened it, he found himself looking at clothing - specifically Stiles’ clothing. Worse, he recognized the shirt on the top - it was the one Stiles had worn on their very first date.

Emotion threatened to overwhelm him, and he wasn’t sure if it was grief or rage that was more prominent. Stiles was leaving him. Stiles was leaving him and he hadn’t said a word. He turned slowly, looking at the many boxes filling the room. He’d obviously been planning this for a while - and Klaus had never realized that the youth had brought quite so many things - though he supposed with a house of this size, it was also hardly a surprise.

He turned back to the box, reaching inside to touch the shirt on the very top. Then the achingly familiar heartbeat approached from down the hall. He didn’t turn when Stiles reached the doorway - didn’t want to see any apology in his features. Or worse, nothing.

“When were you planning on telling me you were leaving?” he asked, voice soft, and he heard the uptick in Stiles’ heartbeat. His hand inside the box curled into a fist around the shirt.

“What?” the actual surprise in Stiles’ tone had him spinning, snarl in place.

“Were you just going to leave and hope I wouldn’t be here?” he demanded, and when Stiles just stared at him he wanted nothing more than to shake him. He was afraid if he touched him, he’d be unable to do anything but beg him to stay. “Did you think you’d be able to remove the boxes before I saw them?” and oh how he wanted to break something - anything - at the wide eyed look on Stiles’ face. He turned away, releasing the shirt before he could rip through it, closing his eyes against the hurt he was feeling. He’d much preferred anger.

“I’m not leaving.” the words had him going absolutely still, and he could only listen as Stiles approached, hesitant. “Klaus,” and his name was joined by a hand on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere.” he had to open his eyes then - had to look over to see if the words were true. Despite the fact that Stiles had never lied to him, the boxes had told a story of their own.

“Then why the boxes?” he reached in, lifted out the shirt. “Your clothes are boxed away.” He watched Stiles’ eyes fall on the shirt in his hand, watched the moment understanding lit his features. Without a word, Stiles went to the dresser, opening the drawers that he’d claimed as his own. Klaus could see from where he stood that they were full. He let go of the shirt once more, confused again as Stiles silently went to the closet next, opening it up. There Stiles’ favourite sweater hung between Klaus’. Leaving the closet and drawer open, Stiles moved back to Klaus, framing his face with his hands. Slowly, he leaned in for a chaste kiss, and when he pulled back he rested their foreheads together.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” and Klaus didn’t hold back now, pulling the younger man in and holding him tight enough that it probably hurt, but Stiles didn’t pull away - didn’t say a word as Klaus held onto him for dear life.

It took Klaus longer than he’d expected to wrap his thoughts around the fact that Stiles wasn’t leaving him, but Stiles waited him out, and when he was finally able to speak, his voice wasn’t as strong as he would’ve liked it to be.

“If you’re staying, why are all of your belongings in boxes?” Stiles sighed but still didn’t pull back, but Klaus loosened his hold, not actually wanting to cause the younger man any pain.

“This is everything from the apartment.” Stiles answered. “I cleared it out today.” Klaus pulled back then, needing to see Stiles’ face, and what he saw there was worry. Not for himself, but for Klaus. Residual anger faded behind relief - but also shame. He’d known that Stiles had intended to remove the last of his things from his apartment - had been thrilled that Stiles was sure enough in his feelings to want this - and yet his doubt had overshadowed his common sense.

“This - this is all you own?” Was what he managed to ask, and Stiles shrugged, his expression almost sheepish.

“Everything I didn’t want to live without, I guess. Last of my clothes. Books. Just random stuff. Memories.” he shrugged again, looking back at Klaus, expression earnest. “If I was going to leave, I wouldn’t do it behind your back. And I don’t _want_ to leave.” the fact that Klaus knew that to be very much the truth brought him shame. What did it say about him that he assumed the worst of everyone? Assumed that the people he cared for the most and wanted to have around him wanted nothing to do with him in return? He knew he’d been silent too long when Stiles grew restless in his arms.

“Do you - do you want me to leave?”

“No.” and he knew his tone of voice came across as threatening - knew it almost was a threat. But of course Stiles didn’t act how anyone else would to being threatened. Instead, he just _laughed_.

“Good. Cause you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” then he pulled away, broad grin in place. “And now that you’re here, you can help me unpack.” Klaus stared. He didn’t think he’d ever get over the audacity of this boy. Was fairly certain he never wanted to. He felt his features change and didn’t fight it - revelled in the way Stiles’ eyes widened and his pulse quickened, but not in fear. Expression wicked now, Stiles shifted his weight, preparing to run, and Klaus knew if he were to look in a mirror, he’d see the exact same thing.

“Race you to the woods.”

“You’ll never make it.”

“If I do, you have to unpack everything for me.” Klaus laughed.

“When I catch you, you’ll forget you even had these boxes.” Stiles’ laugh was delighted. Between one moment and the next, the room lit up with light, startling Klaus back, and with another laugh, Stiles was dashing from the room. With a growl, Klaus gave chase.

 

Stiles forgot all about the boxes. Klaus unpacked them without any help.


	26. Hope

Elijah looked up from his book at the sound of someone knocking on the door. He glanced across the room at Kol, who’d been browsing through the books Stiles had added to the shelves and found his brother frowning back at him.

“Are we expecting company?” Kol questioned, and Elijah shook his head, setting his book down. Rebekah and Finn were out of town, looking for any information they could find on the veil and the spell that had theoretically put it in place. Klaus and Stiles were upstairs but they could easily hear the piano as Stiles played, and they knew their brother got lost in the music whenever he could coerce Stiles to play. The knock came again and Elijah moved to the front door now, knew Kol was on his heels. They could hear a heartbeat on the other side of the door, which made it unlikely that it was the Nogitsune here once more to taunt Stiles, but they weren’t about to take any chances.

When Elijah opened the door, they were faced with a young woman who looked to be about the same age as Stiles. She had strawberry blonde hair that hung in loose curls around her shoulders, and when she looked at them, there was a wariness in her gaze that said she knew what they were if not the who.

“Hello, is there something I can help you with?” Elijah greeted smoothly, and the woman nodded, eyes darting from his face, to where Kol stood behind him, and back.

“I’m looking for Stiles.” and she kept her voice even, almost imperious. 

“Perhaps you could tell me why you thought you’d find whoever you’re looking for, here.” and it wasn’t a question so much as a demand, though Elijah kept his tone mild. He didn’t like how everything and everyone seemed to know the boy resided with them. Wasn’t pleased with the fact that however they were finding him here was likely a source of danger. The woman’s chin tilted in defiance, and Elijah would’ve found her courage appealing if it wasn’t a potential threat.

“I know he’s here.”

“Really now, darling. And just how do you know that?” Even Elijah could hear the danger in Kol’s tone - and the woman stiffened, her lips pressing together in a thin line.

“You could at least tell him I’m here.” she shot back. “Let him decide for himself if he wants to speak to me at least.” Neither vampire appreciated in the least that she knew Stiles was there despite their denial of his presence.

“Who are you?”

“Lydia?” at the sound of Stiles’ voice, both vampires turned to see him and Klaus on the stairs. Though they stepped aside, they both stayed by the door, neither trusting this Lydia enough to move any farther. Stiles, however, only had eyes for the woman on their doorstep. He touched a hand briefly to Klaus’ before leading the way down the stairs, frown in place, and though he walked towards the door he didn’t move past where they stood. That told them he didn’t trust her despite the fact that he hadn’t immediately asked her to leave.

“So this is Lydia.” Klaus noted, wrapping a possessive arm around Stiles as soon as he’d joined him. It was clear the action surprised her, though she said nothing. “I wouldn’t have thought she’d come looking for you, with everything you’ve told me about her.” She only barely contained her flinch but she didn’t turn away.

“I came because I heard a warning.” and she too didn’t look away from Stiles now. “I didn’t really understand it, but it lead me here.”

“You could’ve just emailed me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming here until I drove past the welcome sign.” She admitted.

“Sorry to interrupt this fascinating discussion,” Kol cut in, not at all apologetic. “But are you implying that this, Lydia, is part of _that_ pack of werewolves?” that broke their stare and Stiles finally looked to Kol, offering a small nod.

“Sort of.” Kol lifted a brow, not at all appeased.

“From what I know of wolves, there’s no middle ground. You’re either part of the pack, or you aren’t.”

“I’m not.” Lydia said then, drawing Kol’s attention, and when he turned a glare on her, she actually seemed to stand taller. “I left it shortly after Stiles left town.”

“Convenient, that.”

“Stiles and I have been corresponding by email for months.” she told him, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “And he would’ve known if I was lying. Isn’t that right, Stiles?”

“It is.” he admitted.

“Perhaps we should continue this discussion indoors.” Elijah put in then, opening the door wider, and Lydia stepped in primly, ignoring how Klaus’ arm tightened around Stiles as she walked right up to him, giving him a quick once over.

“You look happy.” she said finally. He met her gaze straight on.

“That’s cause I am.” Lydia nodded, letting her gaze roam over the other three people in attendance.

“Well. At least I know you’re well taken care of.” she noted, and Stiles couldn’t help but snort out a laugh at that. Her lip curved in the smallest of smiles in reaction. Stiles gently pulled himself from Klaus’ grasp then, though he took the other man’s hand instead.

“What are you really doing here, Lydia?” because as true as it was that they’d kept in contact, he’d kept it strictly to email for a reason. He hadn’t give her an address for a reason. The only reason she knew the town was because one night when he’d been answering early on, drunk off his ass, he’d admitted far more than he’d meant to. She’d never mentioned it though, and never mentioned even coming to this side of the country before so he’d pushed the memory back. It didn’t really matter to him that she’d left the pack. Well, it did, or he wouldn’t have responded to her email, but it didn’t at the same time. She may have left in reaction to him leaving, but she hadn’t stood up in defence of him either. Hadn’t stood beside him when Scott’s accusations had sat heavy between them.

“I heard a warning.” she repeated, but this time she looked slightly less composed. “I didn’t really understand what I was hearing at first. But the closer I got, the more I heard.”

“How do you hear these warnings?” Elijah asked then, and Lydia looked to Stiles, looked to see how much he wanted to share. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Lydia’s a banshee.” and that had all three Originals looking at the young woman in a new light.

“You hear the dead and they called you here.” Klaus summarized, and Lydia nodded, though none had missed her surprise that Stiles had announced her identity so easily. Klaus looked to his brothers, wanting to see how they felt about this revelation, and Lydia’s gaze sharpened as she watched the exchange.

“That means something to you.” her sharp gaze turned on Stiles. “Something happened.”

“Tell me what you heard when you got closer.”

“It’s not just what I heard, it’s what I saw. Things are different here. It was changing in Beacon Hills, but here, it almost like the dead are actually _here_. I could see them.” she admitted, and the only show of her anxiety was how her hands smoothed the already smooth front of her skirt. “They didn’t really exist on this side of things, but I could see them. It was like I was looking through something and couldn’t see perfectly, but-”

“Like looking through a veil.” Kol offered, and Lydia blinked in surprise, turning a careful gaze in his direction.

“Yes.” she agreed, cautious now.

“This proves my theory.” Kol told them, looking from Klaus to Elijah.

“What theory?” Lydia demanded, but they ignored her.

“It certainly makes it the most likely theory.” Elijah allowed.

“Oh, don’t tease him, Elijah. We did already agree with him after all.” Klaus tossed back. Stiles didn’t bother hiding his smirk.

“It’s nice knowing for sure and all, but that doesn’t really help us with much.”

“With what?” Lydia cut in, and they all watched Stiles look back at her, expression bored, but eyes nearly fever bright.

“The Nogitsune’s came back.” the reaction was immediate. Lydia went pale as a ghost, her lips parted in shock, and she took a physical step back.

“That’s impossible. We killed him.” she all but whispered, echoing Stiles’ words when the Nogitsune had first appeared on their doorstep.

“He’s still dead.” Stiles allowed, his gaze boring into her, but none of them stopped him, all of them understood his hurt when it came to his past. “But you confirmed what we thought. The veil is thinning. Things are coming through.”

“It knocked on our door much as you did, in fact.” Klaus drawled, _unwelcome_ was unsaid but not unheard. Lydia opened her mouth to answer and then snapped it shut, head tilting, as if to listen. All indifference Stiles had shown was gone in an instant and he stepped forward, worried now, grabbing Lydia by the shoulders.

“What do you hear?” he asked, urgent, but she looked right through him. She walked towards him and then past, pulling out of his grip as she followed whatever she heard. They had no choice but to follow her as she walked, as if in a trance, through the house and towards the back. When she opened the back door, the wind picked up out of nowhere, whipping through the garden - tossing the leaves in every direction. Stiles stopped abruptly a few feet back and put out his arm to stop them as well. None of them were familiar enough with banshees to do anything but follow his lead and so they all paused there, watching her.

“What do you think she’s hearing?”

“The same thing that brought her here. The dead. They guide her, sort of.” Stiles murmured, eyes fixed on where she stood. "She's their herald. She speaks for them. She screams for us.” and the words were ominous.

As quickly as the wind had started, it stopped, and Lydia staggered back, as if her strings were cut. Stiles was right there to catch her and she leaned into his touch, obviously comfortable there. It grated on Klaus’ nerves. It spoke of an intimacy he didn’t like or appreciate. When she looked back at the three of them, white knuckle grip on Stiles’ arm, she was still pale but her expression was resolute.

“The veil. It was a curse.” she unknowingly confirmed. Her lips curved in a humourless smile. “Even the dead crave release.” There was no missing the hope that bloomed in Stiles’ expression as he too looked up at them, but it didn’t sit well with any of them that they would have to rely on this woman who’d already betrayed him. Inaction, in all of their opinions, was by far the worse crime. Cowardice was always worse than taking a stand, even if you stood on the wrong side.


	27. Preparation

“I can see why you like them.” Lydia noted from where she was diligently writing out what he imagined was the spell in ancient Greek. Stiles cast her a wary glance, but she didn’t look away from what she was writing.

“Why’s that?” he finally asked, rising to the bait. He didn’t have to see her face to know she would have that victorious smirk on her face.

“They’re just as reckless as you are.” was what she lead with, and Stiles huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Can’t argue that.”

“They’re also just as brutally honest.” that had his shoulders tightening. He rolled them out, slowly.

“When you put it like that,” but his tone was dry as the desert.

“You know what I meant.” she chastised. “They’re _real_.” and yeah, he knew exactly what she meant by that. “They’re real, and vibrant. Passionate. Violent. They don’t restrain themselves because the world thinks they should. They’ll rip the world apart for each other. For you.”

“I’d do it for them.” Stiles defended, and he hadn’t realized she’d stopped writing until her hand rested over his.

“Exactly.” that had him looking up, turning his face to look at her. He took in every inch of her expression - the guilt, the sincerity, the apology - and shook his head.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I can see why you like them. And I also know you deserve them. Deserve this.” she turned fully to face him, taking both of his hands in her own. “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened yet and that’s okay - but you deserve people in your life who’ll fight just as hard for you as you will for them. You deserve people who’d kill for you.”

“Because I’ve killed?” and he didn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. She gave a sharp shake of her head.

“No.” and her grip on his hands was tight enough to hurt. “Because you’d let them live.” her expression was fierce, and he was reminded of why he’d loved her for most of his life. “You forgive. You deserve people who won’t make you. Won’t _let_ you.” He could only stare - the burn of tears in his eyes almost overwhelming. He did his best to blink them back - to shake off her words, but he couldn’t.

“I forgave you.” Was his all but whispered reply, because he couldn’t keep the words in despite the fact that he hadn’t wanted to hurt her with them. She gave a small, heartbreaking smile, her own eyes bright.

“I know. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to prove that I deserved that.” A tear slipped down her cheek and he couldn’t help himself from reaching out, brushing it away with his thumb. She leaned into his touch, but didn’t look away. “But maybe you shouldn’t have.” She admitted, and his hand froze there, pressed against her cheek.

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t deserve it. You fought for me. You fought for me even though you knew it would kill you. And then you won. I didn’t fight for you until it was too late.”

“But you did.” He knew when she smiled at him once more, that the feelings that had been between them hadn’t faded - not on her end.

“You deserved better than that.” They were the words Stiles had always wanted - though he’d never realized he’d been waiting for. He’d never allowed himself to feel that way - to feel that maybe he deserved to be protected as much as he protected everyone else. He’d been accepting it from Klaus, from all of the Originals really, but it didn’t mean he’d expected it - or that he would have been surprised if it had suddenly stopped. Even with his Dad, he’d protected his Dad before the Sheriff could even think to protect him; the blood on his hands was very much for that reason.

Realizing he was still softly sweeping his thumb across her cheek, Stiles pulled back, reluctantly. Knowing now, how she still felt, it seemed almost callous to be so comfortable with her. Especially when he’d stopped loving her ages before - hadn’t even had a thought about anyone but Klaus. She smiled when he pulled back, though it was sad, and gave his other hand one last squeeze before dropping it as well. He watched her put the mask back on - carefully composed and with a small, mocking sort of smile, but her eyes were still soft.

“I can see why you like them.” And now he laughed, relaxed once more. He bumped his arm against her shoulder and didn’t pull away when she stayed close. While he may have forgiven Lydia before, he hadn’t realized how conditional it had been. Now, he was just glad to have her back in his life.

“So, is that really the entire spell?” He asked then, changing the subject as he glanced at the words over her shoulder. She huffed out a breath at him, nudging him back from his hovering.

“I don’t know if it’s the whole thing, but it’s a start.” She wrinkled her nose, not impressed. “The fact that it’s in Ancient Greek instead of Latin is annoying.” Stiles couldn’t help but grin.

“Please, Lyds. Your Ancient Greek might actually be better than your Latin.” She sniffed and he rolled his eyes, still grinning.“You’re just mad because you find it easier to cast in Latin.”

“So do you.” She countered, hotly, and Stiles cackled.

“Actually, I don’t need any language to cast anymore.” And she spun around, glaring.

“What does _that_ mean?” And he cackled again. With a wave of his hand, the sparks danced across his finger tips, lighting up the air between them. Her eyes went wide and with a careful touch, she reached out. Even as her fingertips brushed against one of the sparks it split into a hundred more smaller bursts of light and her breath caught, awed.

They’d both forgotten about supernatural hearing though - he wasn’t used to having a conversation with someone he wouldn’t have necessarily shared and she wasn’t used to spending time with people who could listen in uninvited. Therefore, he had no idea that the very family he lived with had congregated together only rooms away, all agreeing that while they may not like the idea of Lydia very much, they could absolutely respect her.

However grudgingly.


	28. Beautiful

Klaus was lost in his art. He found he’d been spending more and more time lately with a sketchbook in his hand, and he found every time he picked up a pencil, it was Stiles that appeared on the page.

When he painted he tended to create more abstract pieces, but he hadn’t found the inspiration as of late - instead he found himself with page after page filling with different aspects of Stiles. The more he drew him, the more he realized that Stiles wasn’t just attractive; he was beautiful. Not to say he hadn’t already found Stiles attractive - that much was a given after all. But pencil in hand he found himself mapping out every pale expanse of skin - dotted moles. The transition of colour in his eyes despite the lack of supernatural glow. The way his mouth curved into a smile when he looked at Klaus. And though it didn’t translate to paper, the way - as he’d been practicing with his sense of smell for things other than blood - his scent actual brightened when Klaus entered the room. He was drawing how he’d looked this morning now - with the light spilling in from the window - still fast asleep, eyelashes sweeping across his cheeks, hair tousled, lips parted. While Klaus could lose himself for hours in the intricacy of Stiles’ eyes, they were also all-seeing; a weight behind them that came across even on paper. Like this, those piercing eyes hidden, there was a calmness that could never be achieved otherwise.

“I think you’re the first person who’s ever actually seen him as exactly what he is.” her voice had him stiffening, the pencil in his hand snapping in his surprise. He tossed the pieces onto the table, turning with a scowl.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people who could snap your neck without a thought.” he snarled, but Lydia looked unimpressed. It only irritated him further. Then her words registered, and he narrowed his gaze at her. “What did you mean by that?” she lifted a shoulder and let if fall in a dainty shrug, moving further into the room. At the desk, her fingers traced over a few pages, brushing over the last few images of Stiles he’d drawn. It made him self conscious.

Stiles didn’t usually come in here; not because he wasn’t allowed but because this was where he took his own council, just as Stiles had the music room. They didn’t often intrude without an invitation, though it was an unspoken rule more than anything else. As such, nobody else had seen just how much time he’d spent recreating Stiles; mapping out every aspect of him on paper.

Until this moment, this had all been private, and he liked it even less that it was Lydia who was seeing it; Lydia who he knew still held romantic feelings for Stiles, whether she admitted it or not. Knowing that Stiles had once felt the same about her only made it worse.

He’d never been as aware of his own insecurities.

“These are beautiful.” is what she said instead. He wanted to hide every single one from her gaze. “If he saw them he’d probably be embarrassed you know. He doesn’t see himself as attractive. Not conventionally anyways. I think he still sees the pale, too skinny boy who shaved all his hair off when his mom was sick.” she turned to face him then and he wanted to do just as he’d threatened and snap her pretty little neck.

“Did you interrupt me just to try and prove that you know him better?” she arched a brow at him.

“He used to be in love with me, you know.” the fact that he’d thought that very thing only moments before had his hands clenching in fists. If she wasn’t necessary in the spell to stop the Nogitsune from tormenting Stiles, she would be dead.

“If you think I don’t know that-”

“I used to think it was so intense. Flattering that anybody could feel that strongly about me.” she interrupted. “But then I saw how he looked at you.” any retort he might have had died in his throat. He could only stare at this strange, strange girl. Sensing his speechlessness, she smiled, but it was as soft as it was sad.

“I used to think he loved me more than anything, and at the time, he did. But I think he mostly loved me because I was out of reach. I was the dream - but one he didn’t want to make reality.”

“He speaks of you too fondly for that to be the case.” Klaus admitted, though it was grudging. She waved the words off, looking once more at the images on the desk.

“He would look at me like I was his entire world. He looks at you like your his entire universe.” she put out her hand and he found himself placing the sketchbook in her hand despite himself. “He’s like the sun. He burns so brightly and all he sees is that he casts shadows. But you see every inch of light.” she offered it back and the smile she offered now was genuine. “I’m sure you’d agree that the results can only be as good as the subject.” Klaus glanced down at the drawing in his hands, at how he’d been thinking on how lovely Stiles looked when he’d been interrupted. He found himself shaking his head.

“Not even close.” When she made to leave the room he stepped in her way, blocking the exit. “We heard you, you know. The other day. When you confronted Stiles. And now you’ve approached me as well. Why?”

“I don’t want to have any unfinished business.” that had all sorts of warnings going off in his head.

“What does that mean?” he all but demanded. If she thought she would ingratiate herself back into Stiles’ life just to go and hurt him by doing something as ridiculous as dying-

“I want to make sure I don’t make the same mistake twice. I lost him once before. I won’t do it again.” any softness she may have had before was gone and she smirked at him. “Turns out you’re a package deal.” the smirk became an absolutely wicked grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s probably a good thing we never worked out, I don’t think you could’ve handled the two of us together.” and with that, she sauntered out. Klaus shook his head, though the amusement bled through in a huff.

With only a thought, Klaus went to find Stiles, finding him lounging in their bed, computer in his lap. He immediately joined him, pulling the computer from his grasp so he could steal his full attention. Stiles grumbled but didn’t really complain, settling into Klaus’ embrace.

“What brought this on?” he wondered out loud even as Klaus pressed his face against Stiles’ throat, breathing in.

“Our current house guest.” he took another deep breath, ignoring how Stiles squirmed, ticklish. “I can understand why you felt how you did.” he admitted, “Though I don’t like being reminded of the fact that you’ve cared for others.” that earned Stiles’ laughter.

“Seriously? I’ve had practically zero experience with any of this sort of thing. If the stories are true, you’ve had tons. If one of us was going to be jealous about past feelings, it should probably be me.”

“Have any of them showed up on the front door step?” Klaus countered, and Stiles sputtered out a breath.

“ _Them_? Are we counting now?”

Klaus laughed. tilting his head back to admire the flush of Stiles’ cheeks as he grew flustered. Yes, he really was beautiful.


	29. Lies

“It’s not like I can’t control my Spark.”

 

“I’m the Original Hybrid.”

 

“I already beat up the Salvatore’s - a barely corporeal ghost won’t be able to stand in my way.”

 

“You have nothing to worry about, love. There’s nothing on this earth short of removing my heart from my chest that could kill me. My family too - there is no white oak left in existence and no normal stake can kill us.”

 

“There’s nothing dangerous about the spell. Not for me. You don’t have to worry, okay?”

 

“I haven’t seen the Nogitsune around town, Stiles. There’s no need to worry about him threatening me.”

 

Lydia listened and she watched them, curious, noting the different lies they told each other every day. They were kind lies - all to keep each other from worrying - to keep each other safe - but lies none the less. She wondered why they did it; why they felt the need to lie to each other. From what she understood, they were usually _ridiculously_ honest with each other - so this, this was weird.

She’d seen them get into fights about physical confrontation - hadn’t pulled any punches when it came to those arguments - but these lies were lies to soothe. Telling each other not to _worry_ , and maybe that was the difference. She realized then that they weren’t _just_ lying to protect each other - they were lying to protect each other’s _feelings._ She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. If they didn’t tell each other the truth, despite it being mostly harmless lies, they would absolutely make everyone’s lives harder.

“Have you been in to town recently?” She watched Klaus ask, because he’d been in and out himself, following leads on the veil. Knowing full well that Stiles hadn’t left the house - that he was afraid to leave the house, Lydia watched with narrowed eyes.

“Of course-”

“He hasn’t.” she cut in. Both pairs of eyes turned to her and she lifted a haughty brow at Stiles’ wide eyed look of betrayal and Klaus’ blank expression. “Stiles hasn’t left the house in days.” Stiles spluttered now, hands flapping around to argue.

“I have _so_.” he shot back, eyes darting from Klaus to Lydia and back.

“The garden doesn’t count.” Lydia retorted. “We warded that days ago.” Klaus turned to look back at Stiles who pouted mutinously.

“I _have_ been outside.” but he didn’t argue that he hadn’t been past the edge of the garden. Even as he pouted, Stiles wouldn’t look up from the fixed point on the floor, and so Klaus turned his gaze back to Lydia, lifting a brow.

“Well. If we’re going to talk about who’s been denying what incidents. Why don’t you tell Stiles about how the Nogitsune has been asking around town about you?” Now Klaus narrowed his gaze, but still remained silent, even as Stiles finally looked up to glare at him before looking suspiciously at Lydia.

“What point are you trying to make?” he asked, wary now. He was right to be wary.

Lydia snapped the book she’d been reading closed, standing.

“My point. Is that this is ridiculous. You’ve both been lying to each other for days now. We aren’t going to be able to beat him if you can’t even admit the truth to each other. You’re scared.” and she directed the words at Stiles. “And you should be. The Nogitsune is dangerous. Not being scared means not being cautious enough. And you,” she directed at Klaus. “You’re scared too. Though not for yourself. You're scared for Stiles. Which is also perfectly logical. But lying and saying that you haven’t seen the Nogitsune and that he isn’t a threat is just as dangerous as acting as if nothing scares you.” She moved towards the door, knowing they had a lot of things to talk out and that it would be better if she wasn’t present for it.

“It’s sweet of both of you, to want to protect each others feelings, but this isn’t the time, or the place.” and with that, she stepped out.


	30. Underneath

“I hate magic.” Stiles grumbled, flopping down on the couch next to Finn. The eldest Original chuckled, not looking up from the text he was reading. Not wanting to be ignored, Stiles wiggled around until his head was in Finn’s lap.

They’d all been surprised by how tactile Stiles was with all of them - not because they minded but because they were unused to it - but now it was second nature to accept and even return the touch.

Finn set down his book, looking down at Stiles in amusement, unconsciously moving to run his fingers through Stiles’ hair. Stiles all but purred in response, eyes sliding closed and a small smile forming as he shifted closer to the touch.

“What is it about magic that you hate today?” Stiles didn’t open his eyes, but the slight pout returned.

“It’s never easy.” he complained immediately. “Witches make things so complicated.” that earned another huff of laughter from Finn.

“Oh?”

“Well like. The veil. It’s a spell created by a witch. Thing is - I don’t usually use spells anymore. Well, I never really did. I mean I helped prepare for them but for the actual casting, it wasn’t usually me. Because spells feel super weird. Like - my Spark, it doesn’t like to be contained, you know? It’s just raw energy. So forcing it into the shape of some witches spell is actually really hard.” and Finn couldn’t help his surprise at that. He’d had no idea Stiles felt that way about spells.

“Can you perform the spell needed?” He asked slowly, and Stiles nodded, though careful not to dislodge Finn’s hand. He scratched his fingertips along Stiles’ scalp in response.

“I can. It’s just hard. And it has weird specifications. Like, has to be performed on a waning moon. Has to include the four elements. Words have to be spoken, can’t just be cast.” he was obviously frustrated, but there was something he wasn’t saying. The fact that Stiles was trying to hide it made Finn wary.

“What else does it need?” Stiles opened his eyes now, and for a moment they were opaque. Then he blinked, and Finn could see the wariness in his eyes.

“Blood. Specifically mine.”

“The spell can’t be that specific.” Finn countered, and Stiles winced.

“Well, it is, but also, not. It doesn’t technically need mine.” and the tone of his voice told Finn that he knew just whose blood would work best but the eldest Original knew he wouldn’t share the information even under duress. “But the thing is, if we use my blood, we only have to use a bit. Anyone else, we’d have to kill them.”

“Hmm.” Was his only reply, because that made sense. Stiles was nothing if not wary of committing unnecessary murder. Though it shouldn’t have been funny, the fact that Stiles had chosen his brother as a partner, someone considered one of the most cold blooded killers for a number of centuries, gave a bit more weight to his avoidance of the act.

“How much is a little?” he asked then, and Stiles’ mouth twisted, his gaze averting.

“Well. More than I’ll want to drain in one go.” he admitted. Finn shook his head.

“Have you spoken to Niklaus about this?”

“And tell him what? The main ingredient is under my skin? He’ll love that.” Finn couldn’t disagree. Niklaus would indeed be less than pleased with this development. He would also certainly want to kill whoever else’s blood they could use rather than use a single drop of Stiles’ blood.

“So what will you do?”

“I don’t suppose you would help me slowly collect my own blood.” Stiles mused, and Finn didn’t try to hide his laughter. The boy was sounding more and more like one of them each and every day.

“And if I were to do such a thing?” Stiles met his gaze again, his own guileless.

“Well I may have already reached out to someone for you. Someone who I have it on good authority would do pretty much anything to see you again.” Finn could only stare, watching the blush fill Stiles’ cheeks as he finally pulled away, pushing to his feet.

“How?” he couldn’t help but ask, because there was only one such other who could exist.

“I figured everyone has to be missed by _someone_.” and the absolute innocence of that statement struck him. Finn stood as well and let instinct guide him to press a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“I would help you regardless.” he admitted then, “But I am grateful that you would do this for me.” Stiles just beamed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. With just a couple taps of his fingers, he was showing Finn the last email he’d received.

“She’s already on her way.” he admitted, and Finn was amazed once more.

“Very well. I will speak to the others on your behalf, but know that I will stand behind you in this.” Stiles just beamed once more, grabbing him in a quick hug before darting off, in all likelihood to find the bansidhe.

While at first he’d been wary of the girl who for all intents and purposes seemed to represent all the wrong ever done to their Spark, he had come to respect her and her convictions. If nothing else, he trusted that her affection for their Spark would never allow her to betray him in any form again.

Shaking the thought off, he went to find his siblings - even Niklaus. Though he understood his brother’s aversion to anything hurting Stiles, he also knew that he would understand Stiles’ desire to cause no harm. He also knew that all of his anger on the situation would come out towards himself if Finn presented it and protect Stiles from the unnecessary argument.


	31. Hide

Stiles felt like he was hiding from everything. He knew, realistically, that it was the Nogitsune he was avoiding, but at this point all he could think of was how trapped he felt. And he _was_ trapped. Trapped by his own fear, trapped by the threat of the Nogitsune, trapped in this house since it was the only place he knew the Nogitsune couldn’t enter.

Even though he’d managed to extend the protection to the garden he hadn’t been out there in days. After all, just because it was protected didn’t mean he couldn’t be watched, and he was almost positive that the last time he’d been out there that there had been eyes on him. Even just remembering the feeling had him shuddering.

He stared longingly at the door to the garden, because at least when he’d gone out there he’d had fresh air.

Maybe - maybe he’d just been paranoid.

Biting his lip nervously he made his way towards the garden door, hand shaking as it reached for the handle. He just wanted some fresh air. He was tired of hiding. Of being so cooped up. He’d even started snapping at the others - at Klaus.

Klaus, of course, had argued that he should still go out - that if he was with one of them he was safe - but Stiles hadn’t been convinced. Not because he didn’t trust them to try and protect him, but because he knew as well as they all did that the Nogitsune was far more likely to make an appearance with him there than any other time. And while they might be willing to protect him, he wanted to do the same just as much. So far, that had meant self inflicted house arrest. Again, at first, it had been fine, preferred even. After all, what did he have to do in town, really? The people he wanted to see were almost all here. The only two people he enjoyed who weren’t were his Dad (who he wanted far away anyways), and Jeremy (who had just started coming here instead). So really, he had no real complaints.

Except even his Spark was starting to feel constrained; longing for fresh air. He knew he had to at least go outside so his Spark didn’t lash out. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the handle, opening it slowly. He let out the breath and pulled the door open slowly, gaze darting over the empty gardens. There wasn’t a soul in sight, alive or dead.

Since he’d half expected the Nogitsune to be waiting at the door again he couldn’t help his sigh of relief as he stepped outside, the tension that had been subconsciously building in his shoulders loosening. He moved further out the door, feeling his Spark reaching out - merging with nature again. He hadn’t realized that he’d literally cut off the connection by staying indoors, but he could feel it rekindling - feel the energy surge through him so quickly it left him breathless - and flying high.

The laughter bubbled up and he looked up at the sky - grinning at the blue of it. He kicked off his shoes, feeling the grass under his feet, and marvelling in it. He looked back at the house, at the open door, and considered calling for Klaus but then decided against it. He was outside and he could do this. He was fine. He didn’t need someone there to protect him. He turned back to face the gardens and the woods beyond them and turned his face back up to the sky, eyes fluttering closed. He felt the warmth of the sun seeping into his skin, the kiss of the breeze ruffling his hair, the sigh of the trees as they echoed back the longing his Spark had felt at being kept away.

Content for the first time in days, Stiles opened his eyes again, wandering the garden. It was about time to re-familiarize himself with his surroundings.

He walked the edge of the wards, letting his Spark brush against them and reinforce them, but also sink into the ground, sing through the air as it revelled in its freedom once more. Stiles realized it was hiding inside that had made him forget just how powerful he was. He wasn’t just aweak human anymore, he was a _Spark,_ and he could control power that other people couldn’t even hope to. He didn’t have to be afraid of the Nogitsune anymore - not like he had been.

“I was wondering when you’d find your courage again.” his own voice mused, and he turned to face the Nogitsune, lifting his chin in challenge. The Nogitsune just smirked, not moving from where he was leaning against a tree, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I was worried maybe you weren’t who I remembered you to be.” and Stiles could see that this wasn’t really just his face anymore. The features were sharper - less human. There was more of a point to the chin, the cheekbones just that little bit sharper - almost reaching beyond the lines of his face. There was a definite fox-like shape to what had been his face, proof that the Nogitsune couldn’t keep a stolen form indefinitely without it changing to suit his nature.

“I’m definitely not what you remember.” Stiles shot back, and his Spark agreed, all but lighting up the air around him. “I couldn’t fight you then. I sure as hell can now. If you come after me or any of the people I care about I will light you on _fire_.” the Nogitsune moved between one moment and the next, no longer lounging against the tree but standing directly on the other side of the barrier created by Stiles’ ward. The look in his eyes, however, wasn’t angry or afraid - it was _hungry_.

“You’ve always had that Spark.” The Nogitsune tossed back, and Stiles couldn’t help his surprise at the words. “Deaton kept it suppressed. He was afraid of how powerful you’d be. Then he was afraid of how powerful _I’d_ be.”

“W-what?” and he hadn’t meant to ask, hadn’t meant to engage in conversation further, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Deaton had known all along? But not only that, Deaton had actively made it so he couldn’t use it? Couldn’t protect himself?

“Didn’t you notice that the longer you were away from Beacon Hills the stronger it got? Even when you weren’t using it?” Stiles had just assumed it was maturing with him but now- “That’s right. It’s because Deaton’s own paltry magic couldn’t reach you. I bet when he felt you come back to town he was _terrified_ that you would’ve figured out what he’d done. Because you’re too strong now for him to suppress your powers once more. Your Spark would burn him up before he could even try.” Stiles could only stare, at the bright orange eyes that were nothing like his in the face that had once looked identical to his own. Even before he could open his mouth to retort - to demand why the Nogitsune even thought he cared, a smirk curved the Nogitsune’s lips and Stiles knew whatever he would say next would hurt.

“I would bet you anything that Scott knew. Alan could never have hidden it from him, not if he wanted to keep in his good graces. And you - well, he’s always been afraid of you, in his own way. Afraid of what you’re willing to do - of what you’ve done.” so the Nogitsune knew about Donovan.

Stiles mind went blank.

Without a thought to his own safety, Stiles stepped past the barrier, his Spark like a whirlwind around him, and he watched the fox skip backwards with barely concealed delight.

“I don’t care.” and even as he said it, he knew it was true. He didn’t care what Scott thought anymore - didn’t care what Deaton may or may not have done. He’d made a life for himself without them, and he damn well intended to continue to do so. With a flick of his wrist, his Spark lashed out, lighting up the air with power as it raced through the air at its target. With a deft movement Stiles was _not_ jealous of, the fox gracefully spun away from the attack, and between one second and the next there was a sword in his hand, made of pure energy and the same burnt orange as his eyes. It sliced through the energy his Spark had tossed and it fizzled out on either side of him like a wave breaking. When the Nogitsune looked back at him, his eyes were filled with pure delight.

“ _Stiles_.” he purred, eyes bright. “If you wanted to dance, you had only to ask.” Then his eyes slid past him, and a shadow of irritation passed through his gaze. “Though it appears this time we would be interrupted.” Stiles didn’t have to look back to know Klaus was there - as well as probably one other. Then he looked back to Stiles and there was no missing the unadulterated lust in his gaze. “Until next time.” and with a overdramatic flourish, he disappeared from sight. Stiles sucked in a breath, not wanting to turn back until he had a better grasp on his Spark. He could feel it just begging for violence, and he didn’t want to hurt any of the people behind him. He reigned it in, having no idea that behind him, Klaus and Elijah could see his power - could see the strength of it - and could see it receding as Stiles willfully pulled it back into his body. When he finally turned back to face them, he offered them a bright, yet brittle smile.

“I figured out I didn’t have to be afraid anymore.” he managed to say before Klaus swept him into an embrace, holding him tight. He didn’t have to say that it was clear now the Nogitsune wasn’t interested in his death anymore.


	32. Remorseful

In some sort of backwards way, Stiles actually felt more settled since his confrontation with the Nogitsune. Despite the fact that the fox demon was still a threat, was still something to be wary of, his attempts to taunt Stiles had actually allowed him to let go of a lot of the stress he’d been holding onto. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d still clung to the thoughts of the old pack - how he’d still tried to contain himself within Scott’s misguided moral code. Now, he could let that go - could accept fully that he didn’t have to be constrained - could accept the fact that following his own code was perfectly acceptable and not something he had to feel guilty over.

“I think I’ve got the last of it.” Lydia murmured, catching his attention from where he’d been working on some runes. He blinked at her, not fully registering what she was saying, before he was on his feet, crowding in to look over her shoulder. She’d written out the entire spell from start to finish, and his Spark seemed to agree that this was the full thing because it all but hummed under his skin.

“That’s it. That’s the last thing we needed.”

“Aside from the right phase of the moon.” Lydia drawled, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Okay other than that. But that’s only like 2 days away. So barely any time at all.” eyes bright, Stiles swooped in to press a kiss against Lydia’s cheek before going back to his own seat, settling back at the table, diving back into his rune work, but he was obviously much happier now.

“Stiles,” and the softness of her voice had him freezing, slowly turning his head so he could meet her gaze. His expression was guarded, because he knew her well enough to know what that tone meant; some sort of serious conversation that he probably wouldn’t like the subject of.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“You’ve technically already done that.” was the stiff reply, but Lydia shook her head.

“No, I really didn’t. I made excuses for myself, but I never actually apologized. But I didn’t want to just apologize for me. I wanted to apologize for them too.” Stiles was just staring at her, mouth pressed in a thin line, but he didn’t speak so she pressed on.

“What happened was wrong. I’m sorry they betrayed you - that we betrayed you. I’m sorry you were hurt, that your dad was hurt, and that we couldn’t be what you needed. What we should have been. What they still aren’t. Most of all, I’m sorry that I did nothing. That’s never who I’ve wanted to be. I’m sorry.” she nodded, having nothing left to say, and when Stiles stood she was worried he’d leave without a word. Instead, he came over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He made it all the way to the door before he spoke.

“I forgive you.”

 

>>>

 

“I think that while we’ve all come to the conclusion that we respect your tenacity and your willingness to help us with the veil and surrounding threats, I will never forgive you for hurting Stiles as you did, regardless of how he feels.” Klaus noted, and Lydia smirked.

“I didn’t think you would.”

“You won’t bring it up again though. This need to apologize. It hurts him, thinking of them.” Lydia nodded.

“I know. I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You already had his forgiveness.” Klaus admitted then, wary of this girl and the pain she had the capacity to bring despite her claims that she had no intention to do so. “Why ask for it outright?” she didn’t bother arguing that she’d been asking to hear his forgiveness, because she’d also known that to be true.

“Because I’d do it again.” the words had Klaus tensing, eyes flashing before he got control of his temper.

“I will kill you before I let you hurt him like that again.” and it was no idle threat.

“I know. But what I mean is, if I could go back in time and change things, I wouldn’t.”

“Why?” Klaus snarled but the despair in her eyes when she met his had him rocking back on his heels.

“I felt his death. In Beacon Hills. I could feel it coming. If he’d stayed, he’d be dead. I know that as well as I know my own name. I will always be sorry that I hurt him, but I would do it again because it got him out of there - out of that hell hole. Because that’s the only reason he’s alive.” The thought of Stiles dead, of the life slipping from those bright eyes, had Klaus shaken. To think that if he hadn’t come here, hadn’t met Klaus, then he’d still be back in that place - but not only that, he’d be buried there. His fear of Stiles’ mortality struck hard and for a moment all he wanted to do was take Stiles away - anywhere - and hide him away so he could never be hurt.

“How was he supposed to die?” he couldn’t help but ask, his own morbid curiosity winning out. Lydia flinched.

“Painfully.” but she didn’t elaborate. Klaus nodded, eyes distant as he contemplated that fact. When he finally looked up at Lydia again, he made sure she could see the truth of his words.

“Thank you.” and with that, she was forgiven, because nothing was worth more to him that Stiles’ life.


	33. Unforeseen

Stiles didn’t remember what happened. He could remember flashes of light - bone deep pain - and an echoing wail -

“Lydia!” he shot up in bed, the room spinning around him, and fought with the hands that tried to push him back down. “Lydia! Where is she! Where’s Lydia!” he was shouting, and then the hands that had been trying to push him back down were cupping his face and he was staring into Klaus’ eyes. The guarded look had Stiles panicking.

“What happened? Where is she?” and Klaus shook his head, thumbs sweeping against Stiles’ cheeks to soothe.

“She’s fine. Weak, but fine. It’s you we’ve been worried about.”

“Why?”

“Because I was the worst possible person to perform the spell.” came Lydia’s weak voice from the doorway, and Stiles looked over to see her standing there with Kol at her side. It was clear that he was supporting most of her weight, but rather than complain he just guided her further into the room.

“What are you talking about? You were just saying the words, I was fuelling the power.” and Lydia winced.

“Exactly. I was the problem.” and Stiles scowled at her.

“What are you talking about, we never would’ve even had the spell without you.” he turned a glare on Kol and Klaus. “Have you been letting her get away with this shit?”

“What she’s trying very delicately to tell you, darling, is that her ties to the dead are too strong. Her powers exist more on their side than ours.” Kol interjected softly. “By speaking the words and drawing on your power, she nearly pulled you to the other side.” and Stiles blinked, looking at Lydia who was pale and drawn where she’d settled on the edge of the bed, Kol at her shoulder.

“I nearly got pulled to the other side.” he repeated slowly, looking between the three.

“We thought you were dead.” and there was no missing the raw anger in Klaus’ voice. Stiles and his brother both knew this was how he covered his fear, but Lydia flinched once more. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw Kol give her shoulder a careful squeeze, and wondered just when that had been developing. Ignoring it for now, Stiles leaned into Klaus, wrapping his arms around the Original and burrowing into the comforting heat.

“I guess that means it didn’t work.” and Klaus huffed into his hair, fingers tightening where they’d gripped Stiles in return. He knew for a fact that he’d have bruises but he didn’t pull away.

“No, love, it didn’t work. Though we weren’t interrupted by anyone which is a good sign.” that had Stiles pulling back a bit.

“Do you think we gave the spell a boost or something?”

“I think the Nogitsune must know some of what we are trying to accomplish and that he would interrupt us if he could.” Kol admitted, and Lydia nodded.

“I also don’t think he’d give up the chance to taunt you.” and Stiles knew she was right.

“So what do we do now?” and when the others exchanged looks he scowled. “We can’t just leave it.”

“Of course not,” Lydia agreed. “But Stiles, you can’t do it alone.”

“Why not?”

“Death has had a taste of your power now, darling.” Kol murmured, gaze sympathetic. “Even though you’re certainly powerful enough for the spell, none of us trust that the other side won’t try to drag you in when it collapses.” Stiles sagged into Klaus, glancing up at him beseechingly.

“But then how can we break the spell? Do we even know anyone else who does magic?” at the words, both Klaus and Kol straightened, looking at each other in surprise, and Stiles elbowed Klaus in the stomach in retaliation. “Why don’t you share with the class?”

“There’s a Bennett witch in town.” Klaus said then, and Kol tilted his head, considering.

“She would certainly be powerful enough. But would she do it?” Klaus grimaced.

“She isn’t exactly my biggest fan.” he drawled, and Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Why am I not surprised. What did you do?”

“I may have killed one of her best friends.” he admitted, unapologetic. “But she’s alive now so she really has no need to be angry.” Stiles snickered.

“Oh, is that it?” he snickered again, shoulders shaking as he tried to stifle the sound. Klaus just pressed an affectionate kiss against his hair.

“We could persuade her.” Kol suggested, no small amount of bloodlust in his voice. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” then his eyes lit up and he was pushing away from Klaus, struggling to stand.“Well, only way to find out would be to ask!” and he headed for the door. The rest could only stare after him a moment before Lydia shook her head, fond smile in place.

“That hasn’t changed a bit.”


	34. Conditional

“Let me get this straight. You want me to help you cast a spell.” Bonnie Bennett asked, tone less than impressed. “You want me to do something that would help the Original Vampires. The ones who’ve threatened to kill me, my family, my friends, and has actually succeeded in doing it once or twice. Not to mention the torture. Stealing Elena’s blood.” her deadpan expression was one that Stiles would appreciate in any other scenario, but this time he just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, pretty much.” she blinked, obviously not having expected him to be so blunt, or at least try and bargain with her.

“Why?”

“Because the veil is breaking down. The dead are coming back through. You trying to tell me that there aren’t people you’d rather would stay dead?” Bonnie winced at that, but notedly didn’t answer.

“Why me?”

“Because the afterlife is sort of sentient and wants to eat me for dinner.” Stiles answered immediately. He saw no reason to lie about it. “We tried to cast the spell but we forgot that my friend is too close to the dead and so now the veil wants to swallow me whole.” Bonnie actually shuddered and Stiles was comforted that at least the witch was empathetic.

“What would you need me to do?”

“Basically just say the words. Drop a bit of power in. You can still channel me, cause you’ll be like a window. It’ll be able to see me but not touch. Completely 100% safe for you I promise. We wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Other plus side is the veil totally keeps people wandering alone for eternity. So anyone you’ve loved who’s died a supernatural? They’ll be able to move on and be with their other loved ones.” and he watched her entire expression soften. He knew he’d convinced her, but she would have to argue a bit for show. After all, he didn’t blame her for not really wanting to help the Originals. From what he understood, they’d been assholes before Stiles had shown up.

“I want to speak to Klaus first. And his family.” and that - that wasn’t what Stiles had expected.

“Why?” and he couldn’t help the suspicion in his voice, but really, it was a weird request.

“I won’t help you until I’ve spoken to them.” was what she said instead, and Stiles huffed out a breath.

“Fine, but it’s your head.” at her alarmed look, he didn’t hold back the grin. “Figuratively speaking, of course. They won’t hurt you. I promise.” Bonnie didn’t look like she believed him, more because she didn’t seem to think his promise could mean anything, but she still left the safety of her home, locking the door before following him to his jeep.

 

>>>

 

“So, little witch, are you here because you wish to bargain?” Kol mocked from where he was sprawled over an armchair, glass in hand. Lydia was nowhere in sight, but they hadn’t wanted to put her in Bonnie’s sights - not when they knew everything she was told would end up back with the Salvatore’s. Bonnie actually looked down her nose at him, arms crossing in front of her chest.

“You all came to me for help.” she reminded him, and Kol smirked, the expression dangerous.

“That would be correct, Miss Bennett. We did reach out to you for aid. Though I would remind you that undoing this spell is in your benefit too.” Elijah interrupted smoothly, putting a hand for calm on Kol’s shoulder.

“We have all the things you would need for your casting already prepared.” Finn told her from the far doorway, a doorway that Rebekah had disappeared through only moments before. It had been under the guise that she really didn’t like the Bennett witch or her friends, but they all knew she was also going to check on Lydia who still hadn’t fully recovered from the spell. As Klaus was the only one who hadn’t spoken, Bonnie turned her gaze towards him, and Stiles hid a grin behind his fist, biting his knuckles to stifle his laugh.

“What is it that you want from us, Miss Bennett?”

“I want my friends to be safe.” and Stiles was surprised that she didn’t even try to work up to her demands. It took guts. He was fairly certain that if it wasn’t for the antagonism between her friends and the Original family, they could actually have become friends.

“One could argue that the harm they’ve brought upon themselves is entirely of their own making.” was Elijah’s mild reply, but Bonnie just lifted her chin defiantly.

“I just want a truce. We don’t come after you, you don’t come after us.”

“And you think your dear friends the Salvatore’s would listen?” Klaus only just managed not to snarl. Stiles was impressed that she was able to tamp down on her desire to flinch, the action only visible in the slightest of tightening around her eyes.

“I think,” she said slowly, “That if you agreed to a truce, you would be well within your rights to retaliate against whoever broke it to attack you.”

“They’ve already attacked before.” Klaus snapped, but his gaze slid to Stiles, and Bonnie followed it. When Stiles gave a sheepish grin, Bonnie realized just what Klaus was worried about. Not the Salvatore’s coming after him and his siblings, but for Stiles’ safety. For a moment, she could only stare, but then she forced herself to focus on the present.

“There’s nothing any of us can do about the past.” she argued instead. “I’m just trying to make sure the people I care about can be safe in the future.” Stiles respected that. It was exactly how he’d always felt.

“I think it’s fair.” he put in before Klaus could argue further, and Klaus’ gaze shifted to him, furious.

“The Salvatore’s have tried to kill you twice now.”

“And they failed both times. Plus, if you were really that upset about them potentially trying again, they’d be dead and we all know it.” Klaus hated the fact that he was right, and his silence spoke volumes. “Exactly. So I say we agree to the terms, and if anyone breaks it they are within their right to respond with extreme prejudice.” Even as Klaus opened his mouth, presumably to argue, Elijah interrupted.

“That seems reasonable.” Klaus cut a glare at his older brother.

“Need I remind you that they conspired to have you daggered.”

“As have you.” Finn pointed out. Now Klaus’ expression was near murderous.

“They also tried to kill me.”

“You did kill some of them.” Stiles countered. “Which from now on is exactly what you’d technically be allowed to do if they broke the rules.”

“You don’t really want to go through the effort of killing them anyways, Niklaus.” Kol put in then. “Stiles is right. If you’d wanted to do so you would have by now.”

Bonnie watched in growing surprise as Stiles got up and moved to where Klaus was, all but crawling into the Original’s lap and cuddling right in.

“Look at the bright side. You can kill anyone else, just not her friends.” and to her absolute shock, Klaus snorted out a laugh in response even as he tightened his hold on Stiles. When he looked up to meet Bonnie’s gaze, she knew she probably looked as surprised as she felt, but she couldn’t help it. She knew if it wasn’t for Stiles Klaus wouldn’t even have considered the truce and the fact that someone could hold that much sway over any of the Original family was unheard of.

“Fine. I accept your terms.” and Bonnie nodded, but she was too busy staring at Stiles. It looked like she had her truce.


	35. Gone

“Have you seen Stiles anywhere?” Bonnie asked as she walked into the parlour, frown in place. When Klaus looked up at her it was with confusion.

“He was in the library last I saw.” but she shook her head.

“No, I was just in the library. That’s where we were supposed to be working on the spell. I wanted his help with the pronunciation of a couple of the words before we did the casting, but he’s not there. Or in the kitchen.” because she knew by now that Stiles had an affinity for snacks.

“Have you checked upstairs?” at the question, Bonnie just shot him a look.

“You mean have I checked _your_ bedroom?” she asked, unimpressed, and Klaus rolled his eyes. Humans were so funny about proprietary sometimes. Leading the way out of the room, Klaus climbed the stairs, calling out even as he approached the bedroom door.

“Stiles, love, are you in there?” but he knew even before he opened the door that he wasn’t, because the familiar sound of his heartbeat wasn’t. Frowning, Klaus turned on the spot, trying to focus on the familiar beat as he knew he could pick it out of any crowd, but he realized then that he couldn’t hear it at all. Moving swiftly now, he all but raced down the stairs.

“Elijah! Have you seen Stiles?”

“Is he not in the library with Miss Bennett?” Elijah asked even as he appeared, but when he saw Bonnie was with Klaus, he frowned as well. “I haven’t seen him since this morning.” Elijah admitted, and Klaus felt panic starting to churn in his stomach. Elijah pulled out his phone, dialling his sister’s number.

“Elijah.” she greeted.

“Good afternoon, sister. Did you see Stiles before you and Finn left town?” he inquired, but Rebekah immediately confirmed that she had not in fact seen him, but was there something the matter? “We can’t seem to find him.” Elijah admitted, and heard Rebekah’s sharp intake of breath. “Not to worry. He’s probably with Kol.”

“Call me back once you know.” Rebekah all but ordered, and Elijah agreed before hanging up. Even as he did so, Kol appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Did I hear my name? What’s this about Stiles?”

“We can’t find him.” Kol’s expression dropped, his grip tightening on the banister.

“I’ll ask her.” and that had Bonnie’s attention. She hadn’t known there was someone else here.

“Who?” she asked immediately, but she was ignored in favour of going back upstairs, with her hot on their heels. “Who is _she_? How would she know where Stiles is?” even as she asked the question, a scream tore through the halls, and even as she heard it it grew louder and louder until she had to cover her ears, crying out against the pain.

Even when the scream faded, leaving her ears ringing, her hands came away bloody, and she stared at her palms in horror before looking at the others. They too were all grimacing, blood dripping from their ears, but as soon as he’d recovered Kol was darting off, and she stumbled to follow. It was Klaus’ grip on her elbow that kept her standing and she gave a nod of thanks. When they reached the door of the room Kol had disappeared into, she found him crouching next to a red-headed woman, taking her shaking hands in his own. As soon as they stepped in the room, the woman looked up, gaze sweeping over them before settling on Klaus.

“He took Stiles.” and Bonnie had no idea who _he_ was, but everyone else obviously did because Klaus’ grip on her elbow became painfully tight and he let go right before she could cry out to spin around, fist going right through the wall as he shouted in frustration. Elijah caught his arm before he could lash out again and even as Klaus turned to focus his attack on his brother, the woman spoke again.

“He’s alive.” and that obviously calmed Klaus enough to stop him from throwing another punch, though only just. Instead, he spun to face the woman.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. But we have to find him soon. The veil is nearly gone.”


	36. Clear Skies

“What do you mean you can’t cast the spell?” Klaus growled, and there was no missing the threat in his voice or his body language as he stopped abruptly in his pacing to face her.

“Exactly what I said. Without Stiles, I can’t cast it in the same conditions. Almost all of the power was coming from him. I don’t have access to that kind of magic on my own.” at first it had grated at her, the amount of power Stiles could wield that she couldn’t even dream of using, but then she’d felt it sweep through her, and she knew that even if she could access it on her own, it would burn through her so quickly it would kill her. Now, she could feel nothing but awe and respect for somebody who could contain that level of power and not crumble.

“I need clear skies and a blood moon.”

“The next blood moon isn’t for another year.” Klaus snapped, looking about ready to snap more than his voice, but Bonnie didn’t back down.

“You think I don’t know that? But even if I used every ounce of magic, even if I let the spell take my life as payment, I still wouldn’t have the strength to cast the spell. I need something to channel. Something powerful.”

“What about us?” and Bonnie spun at the sound of Kol’s voice behind her. He looked on edge, which made sense really, but his hair was mussed, his shirt wrinkled, and Bonnie was realizing that Stiles was more to these people than just Klaus’ boyfriend.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re creatures of magic. We were created from a spell, and we’re immortal. Could you channel us?” and she’d never even considered that before.

“I don’t - I don’t know.” though it looked like it pained him, Kol stepped out of the doorway.

“Speak with Lydia.” and Bonnie knew he had to mean the redheaded woman. “As she’s the one who transcribed the spell, she would know best what sort of power you could channel to cast it.” and Bonnie didn’t waste any time going back to the room the woman had been in. She’d been beyond curious about the woman, and the chance to speak to her wasn’t something she’d pass up.

She found her braiding her hair at the vanity, and the moment she stepped into the doorway, the woman had pinned her in place with her gaze in the mirror.

“I’m a friend of Stiles.” she said simply, obviously not willing to go into more detail, but Bonnie made the connection anyways.

“The one who cast the spell the first time. The one connected to death.” her eyes sharpened on Bonnie and the witch couldn’t help but fidget.

“Yes.” was the sharp reply, and Bonnie couldn’t help the wash of guilt.

“I’m sorry. Kol sent me to-”

“Ask what you could channel for the spell.” she turned then so she was actually facing Bonnie, standing and smoothing her skirt at the same time. She looked immaculate, and if Bonnie hadn’t witnessed the scene earlier she never would’ve known anything could shake this woman. “He wants you to channel them, doesn’t he?”

“How did you know?”

“Did you know if they weren’t vampires, they would have been witches?” and Bonnie couldn’t help her surprise, shaking her head. “He wants to help, but it would be a bonus if he got to feel the rush of magic again.” she shrugged then, a delicate motion, but Bonnie was convinced it was just to hide the steel underneath. There had been nothing soft or delicate about the scream earlier. “You could channel them. You’d have to be careful not to tether them to the spell though.” her smile was sharp as it was poisonous. “If you kill them, you’ll have more than Stiles to answer to.” and with that she swept past her and out of the room, head held high. Bonnie only had a minute to wonder just what she had gotten herself into before she followed.


	37. Heartache

Klaus was restless. Everywhere he looked he was reminded of Stiles, and the thought brought an ache to his chest.

Stiles who he’d committed himself to.

Who was only human.

Who was missing.

Who’d been taken from him.

Who he loved.

Oh, how he loved him.

He knew now that he’d never loved anyone how he loved Stiles. Loved to the point of pain - but not only that, to the point of wanting pain.

Loving his family had always caused him pain of some sort of another, but that had always angered him - frustrated him - pushed him over the edge. This though, the pain of loving Stiles was something he savoured. The pain meant it was real and alive and vulnerable. Something that Stiles’ very nature demanded.

This time though, the usual ache of pain wasn't pleasant - wasn't something he could handle - because this pain was because Stiles was missing again - out of his reach and likely hurt. Captured by the thing he feared most, and after Klaus had sworn to him it would never happen.

He would kill the Nogitsune for making a liar of him. Rip him limb from limb. Feed on his heart. The thought had Klaus hands aching - claws just beneath the surface. He closed his eyes, allowing the ripple to settle over his features only briefly, showing his nature to the world, before he pulled it back.

He couldn’t afford to lose control, not with Stiles in such danger. Once he was safe once more - once the Nogitsune was caught - _then_ he would let loose.

He stalked by the front door, intending to find the witch and ask after her progress when he caught sight of Stiles’ car keys sitting on the table by the front door. Carelessly tossed the last time he’d come home.

For a moment, the terror that he would never be able to do so again was overwhelming. That the Nogitsune might kill him before he ever had the chance to step foot back into their home. Even as he had the thought it was chased by another, darker one. He knew very well that what the Nogitsune wanted wasn’t just to physically torture Stiles anymore. What he wanted was still torture, of course, but not the kind that would lead to death; because that would free Stiles from his clutches. The fury raced through him and this time he couldn’t control the shift, couldn’t control the growl that tore from his chest.

Then the pang of heartache followed - because that too was something he should be protecting Stiles from, and it too was something he couldn’t do.

They still hadn’t managed to figure out just how the Nogitsune had managed to take him - where and when exactly he’d been caught - but all of those unknowns only made the ache worse.

They needed to find him, and soon, or he would not be held responsible for his actions.


	38. Wired

Stiles paced from end to end of the room, mapping every inch of it in his mind. It was barely bigger than a cell and he knew it was below ground because he could feel the hum of the earth all around him - even past the oily feel of the Nogitsune’s magic, the barrier the fox had put in place to keep him contained. There were no windows and only a single, solid metal door, locked from the outside.

Stiles continued to pace. Fingers tapping out a rhythm against his thigh. He was beyond wired. He hadn’t slept since he’d been taken, and if he had to guess that was two days ago. He hadn’t eaten either - hadn’t had even a sip of the water the fox had brought him - he knew better than to trust anything that came through the fox - but somehow he didn’t feel weak.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his Spark was protecting him, keeping his mind sharp - keeping his body from wasting away.

Despite the fact that he was fairly certain he’d only been here for a few days, he hadn’t seen much of the Nogitsune beyond when the demon had dropped off food and water, and he didn’t know if that was a comfort or not. At least when the Nogitsune was here he knew what he was up to, but being here alone - he could feel it starting to creep up on him - the claustrophobia - the fear that he’d end up trapped here for the rest of his life. The idea of never seeing Klaus or the others again almost choked him with panic but he swallowed it back. He couldn't lose it. Not then. Definitely not here. The only edge he had was that the Nogitsune couldn't get into his mind - the one time the asshole had tried he’d _burned him out_. He grinned viciously at the memory. So far, the fox hadn’t tried again. Stiles continued to pace.

He didn’t want to sit. He knew if he sat he’d probably doze off, and he remembered very clearly that it was when he’d been asleep that the Nogitsune had slowly started taking over the first time. While he was fairly confident in his Spark’s ability to keep the Nogitsune out he wasn’t willing to risk it. Not yet.

The power thrummed under his skin, itching - and it took all of Stiles’ willpower to push it back. He didn’t want to lose control. As much as he wanted to let his Spark out - let it wreak havoc and set him free - he had no idea how far underground he was and he had no interest in burying himself alive.

Even as he had the thought, the locks on the other side of the door start to slide open and he skittered away from the door, pressing himself back against the wall as far as he could be. The door swung open and the Nogitsune sauntered in, smirk on his features as his eyes raked over the room and Stiles.

“You can’t keep this up forever you know.” he said, amused, and even his voice wasn’t quite the same anymore. “Your Spark will only be able to maintain your body for so long before even it can’t stop you from wasting away.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you.” Stiles bit out, and the Nogitsune shrugged.

“Not really, though a lack of strength on your part would certainly make things easier.” Stiles shuddered at the words, earning a wide grin. “Your strength is part of the draw, really. Though I won’t lie and tell you the thought of you unable to stand against me in any way isn’t appealing in its own right. But, Stiles,” and the way he all but purred Stiles’ name had him pressing even further into the wall. “I want to mould you into something better - not weaker. That wouldn’t serve any purpose.”

“Mould me?” Stiles scoffed. “Whatever control you think you have over me, you’re wrong.”

“Oh, but Stiles. I have complete control over you.” the Fox taunted, approaching. Stiles had nowhere to go, and he knew he couldn’t strike yet. Not when there was a chance he could lose. He needed a little more time to prepare. The Nogitsune didn’t stop until he was within inches and he reached up a hand to caress it down Stiles’ cheek. He jerked away, head colliding with the wall where he was pressed in the corner, and for a moment he saw stars. The Nogitsune just laughed.

“You’re exactly where I’ve put you, with nowhere to go. How long do you think you can cope down here?” the fox asked, not completely rhetorical. “Are you still afraid of the dark?” and Stiles’ gaze flickered, unbidden, to the single bulb dangling from the ceiling, even as the colour drained from his face. The fox’s grin was wide and hungry. “How long do you think you’ll last in the absolute darkness never knowing if I’m in the shadows? Knowing I probably am? After all, you’re my favourite human. I wouldn’t want you to get lonely.”

the whimper came, unbidden, when the lightbulb flickered, and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, even as the fox laughed, delighted. Hands grabbed him and yanked - pulling him away from the anchoring feel of the wall at his back. Then he was spun around, left flailing, with no idea which way the closest wall was.

His heart pounded in his chest and the rapid _thumpthump thumpthump_ was all he could hear. The copper taste of panic was on his tongue and his throat felt like it was closing.

“What were you saying about control?” the fox’s voice murmured in his ear, and Stiles’ entire body tensed, feeling him there - just behind him. Between one second and the next his panic solidified into anger and he spun, fist leading. The Nogitsune caught his fist in one of his palms, squeezing almost too tight, but a spark lit from the impact and the room was no longer dark. Stiles’ own grin was bright and feral. The spark that had lit between their hands brightened and multiplied until the shadows were pushed back and the only shadows in the room were the Nogitsune’s own.

“That you don’t have it.”


	39. Insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end of chapter for potential trigger warnings

While Stiles would never regret challenging the Nogitsune because it proved he wouldn’t lay down and take _anything,_ what had come after was something he could’ve done without. The Nogitsune had squeezed his hand until he’d felt the bones break before leaving Stiles alone, not even bothering to use the door but stepping into his own shadow and disappearing. Tears streaking down his face, Stiles had cradled his hand against his chest, curling up in the corner with the light of his Spark warming him and keeping him company. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep until he woke up to the feeling of somebody tugging on his wrist and his eyes flew open to see the fox crouching next to him, irritation plain as day on his features. He tried to yank his hand back and hissed at the pain that shot through him, making stars dance in front of his eyes.

“Stop fighting, just for once. I’m going to fix it.” the fox snapped, and the words were surprising enough that Stiles complied even if it was by accident, his arm having gone limp in his shock. The Nogitsune had slowly opened up his hand and Stiles whimpered, almost yanking his hand back once more, but the fox stilled him with a sharp look. With carefully probing fingers, he felt around for where the breaks were.

“Why - why do you want to help me?” Stiles demanded, voice breaking as he watched his own hand be settled back into place. Not healing yet, but setting.

“I don’t want you broken.” the Nogitsune snapped, angry, but Stiles was beginning to realize that wasn’t all at him. The Nogitsune was angry at himself too. The realization had Stiles blinking in surprise.

“Why?” when the Nogitsune looked back up his eyes glowing with his power, expressing both his frustration but also his focus.

“Because. We’re bonded, Stiles. Our souls connected and that connection never broke. Fortunately for you, your Spark shapes things like that, whether you want it to or not. I can only assume the fact that I don’t want to consume every ounce of your being is partially in thanks to that.” Stiles shuddered at the thought earning him a sharp grin. “But regardless, you’re mine.” Stiles’ gaze snapped to the fox’s, whose eyes had taken on a possessive light.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Oh, but you do. You’ve given yourself to the Original Hybrid. Gave him a form of ownership, though you would call it commitment.” the tone was mocking. “But your soul was already bound to mine. I imagine that’s how I was able to follow you here from Beacon Hills even from the other side.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Stiles breathed, afraid of the answer now. He hissed out a breath as the pain cut through his hand before draining into the Nogitsune’s fingertips, the black lines crawling up to his wrist.

“As much as it pains me to admit this,” and at the unimpressed look Stiles shot him had the fox smirking. “I can’t hurt you like I did.” Stiles blinked, following the Nogitsune’s gaze to his hand and watching as the swelling slowly disappeared, as everything clicked back into place. He continued to stare as the Nogitsune spoke.

“I felt _guilty_ leaving you here like this.” and it was clear by his tone that this was irksome, but Stiles didn’t look away from his hand, afraid of what he would see. “Not for the dark or any of that - but for the broken bones. If I’d left this you would’ve had permanent injury. I find that - less than ideal.”

“You realize I’m never going to feel that way about you.” Stiles blurted out before he could think twice. “And psychological torture is still torture.”

“Your mind is stronger than you give it credit for.” was the mild reply, and Stiles realized his hand was healed now, but the Nogitsune hadn’t released him. Before Stiles could react, The Nogitsune had tugged him slightly closer by his hand, putting him almost off balance. The hand not wrapped around his shot forward to grab his chin, forcing eye contact, but also keeping him in place, much closer than he would’ve ever been otherwise. “As for your feelings - while I’d like to say they don’t matter to me, that seems to be another unfortunate side effect. But I’ll warn you now. I am who I have always been. I will rip anything that stands in my way to pieces and devour them. While what I want from you and of you has changed to something I can’t quite define, how I feel about the _hybrid_ is clear as ever. He is standing in my way. I am going to feast on his pain and despair before I kill him.” Stiles felt all the colour drain from his features.

“He’s immortal, you can’t kill him.” the Fox smirked.

“Is that one of the reasons you chose him? The thought that nothing, not even death could take him from you?” he shifted even closer, so that all Stiles could see was the brights of his eyes. “I am far more permanent than he could be, Stiles. I exist on multiple planes. If anyone would truly be able to stay by your side eternally it would be me.” Stiles shuddered and the Nogitsune absorbed the motion, sucking in a breath, pupils dilating even as the wicked grin formed.

“Did you forget that my nature is demonic? While I may be slightly younger than your precious Original, _what_ I am has existed for far, far longer. And will continue exist past the existence of vampires on this earth.”

“You wish.”

“Oh, Stiles. Didn’t you know that if you kill an Original, their entire line dies with them? All the way down to the youngest of their race. If all the Originals were to die, there wouldn’t be a single vampire left in existence.” the enormity of that possibility had all the breath whooshing out of Stiles lungs and he struggled to get it back.

“You said so yourself. You’re younger. You’ll never be able to take them all on at once.”

“Lydia’s already screamed. She knew you were with me, but her scream wasn’t for you. I don’t have any intention of killing you. Or her. Not yet while she’s still useful. So who do you think she was screaming for?”

“I won’t let you.” the Nogitsune’s grip tightened on his chin and he had a moment of fear that he’d shatter the bones of his jaw like he’d done to his hand.

“I won’t let someone else with a claim to you live.” Stiles’ mind was racing, because even as he argued this, the Nogitsune didn’t move. If he’d truly intended to do only this, he would have said so and left, not waited and allowed Stiles to argue. Which means there was another outcome - some way around this.

“What would it take for you not to?” and he regretted the words even as they left his mouth, but he wouldn’t take them back. Couldn’t risk Klaus’ life.

“You could let me in again.” If it weren’t for the Nogitsune’s grip on his, he would’ve recoiled.

“No.”

“I could potentially burn the bond with him from your mind. If you felt no loyalty to him, I wouldn’t need to kill him.” he continued as if Stiles hadn’t already rejected the idea.

“ _No_.”

“Not even to save his life?” and it was a trick question, because Stiles knew he would. Knew he’d risk insanity just to protect the people he cared about, but the thought of letting anyone - _especially_ the fox - into his mind made him want to throw up.

“I don’t want to share a body.” and he watched triumph flare in the Nogitsune’s eyes, making them almost look like they were on fire.

“Of course not. Mine is perfectly suitable.”

“How do I know you won’t try and mould me from the inside out? You already said that’s what you wanted.” The Nogitsune shook his head as if Stiles was being a particularly difficult student.

“Stiles, it’s much more satisfying when you agree to the changes. I only want to break the bond you hold with your Original. Beyond that, I will leave your mind in tact.” Stiles sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, worrying it while he mulled it over. He froze when he felt the Nogitsune’s eyes boring into him, and when he focused back on the fox’s features, he realized he was staring at Stiles’ mouth, head tilted in consideration. Since he _really_ didn’t like the implication of that, Stiles was quick to speak.

“I want to see them.” and the look he was levelled was less than impressed. “The bonds.” he clarified. “I want to see what they look like. In my mind.”

“I’ll warn you now. I’ll show you, but if you try and fight me there, you’ll cause yourself more harm than I ever could.” at Stiles confusion the Nogitsune heaved a sigh, breath ghosting along Stiles’ skin. “If you try to fight me in a place filled with all the bonds you share with others, what do you think would happen? You may actually snap them, even by accident. _That_ could cause you irreversible psychic harm.” Stiles nodded, understanding.

“Okay.” the Nogitsune’s eyebrows winged up.

“Okay?”

“Now’s as good a time as any.”

Wariness flashed across the fox’s features followed closely by amusement.

“Very well.” They were almost nose to nose now.

“Do you accept me into your mind?”

“I do.”

 

The room seemed to swirl around him until he felt like he was falling, the only constant the pressure of fingers against his - the solid grip on his chin.

“We’re here.” he hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he blinked them open, and he still found it beyond disorienting that he was just a small version of himself within himself. He looked around and saw all these vibrantly coloured strings, and when he drew back to look around, the Nogitsune finally, _finally_ , released his chin, though kept a grip on his hand. Stiles was too awed to care. His mind was a pretty cool place. A tug on his hand drew his attention and he turned to see not to strings, but ropes. One was a swirl of colour and looking at it had a pang shooting through his chest. The other was pure darkness, and he didn’t have to think hard about who it represented.

“How did that happen?” he demanded, furious. “I never agreed to this.” but the Nogitsune only shrugged.

“Neither did I. When I first saw you again in Beacon Hills all I could think about was bathing in your blood.” and he said it so casually that Stiles could only stare. “And then, somehow, I didn’t want your blood anywhere but under your skin. Maybe it was self preservation on the side of your Spark. It wasn’t strong enough to fight me, and so it made it so you didn’t have to.” Stiles just grimaced before turning his attention to the bond with Klaus.

“You want to destroy it.”

“You agreed.” Stiles swallowed, delaying. Because he’d never intended to let the Nogitsune do any such thing, but he needed to know more first.

“How would you have to do it?” Stiles asked then, staring at the rope. “Will I - will I feel it break?” and he didn’t have to fake his worry - his fear. How much would a breaking bond hurt?

“It’s all about will.” and the Nogitsune let go of his hand to step towards the rope. “I can take the pain for you though. It would be easy here. Our minds are connected. You don’t have to feel a thing.” Stiles realized the Nogitsune was looking at him, waiting, so he nodded.

“I don’t want to feel it break.” and that also wasn’t a lie. If Stiles failed, and the bond with Klaus did snap, he didn’t want to know what that felt like. With an incline of his head, the Nogitsune reached out.

Stiles felt the moment his hand wrapped around the rope like a punch to the gut. It was now or never. He lunged towards the black rope - wrapping both hands around it. But he didn’t just want to break it - he wanted to use it as a doorway. If there minds were connected that meant it went both ways and it only took a moment of concentration before he _felt_ the shift. He opened his eyes and the rope beneath his hands wasn’t pitch black anymore, it was _gold_ , and everything around him was draped in shadows. He’d succeeded. Now the only question was - what next?

The Nogitsune’s mind was big and overwhelming, but Stiles refused to be distracted. He knew he only had limited time before the Nogitsune realized what he’d done and -

“Did you really think I didn’t know you would try this?” He whipped around to see the Nogitsune, though he wasn’t as solid as he had been before. Noticing his staring, the Nogitsune lifted a hand to observe it, offering a shrug. “I can’t exist as fully in both places, but not to worry. I can still wear away at your bond with the hybrid and deal with you here. It’ll just take more time. And I won’t be able to make it as painless as you might hope.” the smile was all teeth, every one a threat.

“If you knew why did you agree to this?”

“I thought you’d try to destroy the bond, not follow it here. In that, at least, I was mildly surprised. But then considering I told you not to fight anyone within your own mind it makes sense that if you wanted a confrontation you’d bring it here.”

Stiles scowled, he hated that the Nogitsune knew him well enough to predict that.

“What if I was planning on breaking the bond from this end?”

“You would’ve tried to do so already. Instead you stepped away from it.” now the Nogitsune paced closer, eyes bright, nearly feral. “Just what exactly do you intend to do, Stiles?”

“Stop you.” the fox blinked, and then tilted his head back in a roar of laughter.

“Stop me? My dear, dear Stiles. It’s endearing, really. I should be offended but really I’m flattered. You push yourself to be so much stronger to fight me.” still chuckling, he offered a hand. “Come then. Let’s go back. No reason to make me hurt you.” the amusement shifted then to something darker, less friendly. “Do not ever assume that because I don’t want to hurt you means that I won’t.”

Stiles shook his head and took a step back, not willing to concede yet. Not when he hadn’t even tried to stand his ground.

“To be fair, half of why you like me is that I don’t back down from a fight.” Stiles shot back, and for a moment the amusement was back.

“True. But I’ll remind you later, when you’ve no choice but to lick your wounds, that you asked for this.”

Stiles expected an attack, but he expected it from where the Nogitsune stood, watching. He didn’t expect the attack from behind, or the pain that was so vibrant it made his vision go white for just a moment. He looked down at his shoulder to see what almost looked like a lance sticking out of the joint, and he almost threw up.

“Don’t worry, Stiles. This is only in your mind. While this will hurt, and will continue until you give in, your physical body remains unharmed.” when Stiles looked up the Nogitsune’s eyes were lit with glee. He was obviously able to feed on Stiles’ pain even here. Stiles gritted his teeth. If this was based on imagination, he had that in spades. He reached into himself for his Spark and then realized that it wasn’t inside him anymore because he was inside. And wasn’t that some inception shit. He could feel his Spark almost like a third presence, and his own grin was wide and bloodthirsty. He felt the rush of matching savagery flow back through the bond.

“Let’s light the bastard up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:
> 
> there are some minor dub-con elements.   
> Or at least, implied ones.   
> It's more an implication of what the Nogitsune wants than anything he would actually do; he really doesn't intend to do a whole lot of anything without Stiles' consent. BUT it's definitely clear that he wants to hence the warning just in case.   
> The Nogitsune obviously wants Stiles - is willing to hurt him (to a point) to get what he wants. But he actively doesn't want to hurt him anymore. He wants more than just control and pain. He wants companionship in a sense. He just doesn't understand how to get it.  
> NOT THAT THAT MAKES HIS ACTIONS ACCEPTABLE!!! But that's the gist of it~


	40. Foolish

The resounding boom of an explosion had them all on their feet, and Klaus was racing out the door even before he knew what he was looking for. He should’ve been more wary for threats, but he just _knew_ that whatever that had been had to do with Stiles. Even as he had the thought, a familiar sound made itself known, and Klaus’ step actually faltered.

He could hear Stiles’ heartbeat.

He was racing towards the sound even as his siblings called after him, but he couldn’t - wouldn’t - stop.

If it hadn’t been for the guiding sound of Stiles’ heartbeat he probably wouldn’t have found him, because it was running past the sound and having to backtrack that brought Klaus attention to the slight shift in the air in front of him. With a cautious touch he reached forward - and the glamour slipped away like water - parting around his hand. In front of him was what looked like a bunker from one of the world wars and he moved forward, cautious now, and aware that the failing glamour was either a trap or the result of the Nogitsune’s weakness. He found them on the floor there - the bunker a one room space - and they were lying, sprawled, side by side. The Nogitsune’s hand was tight around Stiles’ wrist and they were both staring, unseeing, at each other. If not for the fact that Stiles’ heartbeat was like a drum in his ears, he might have thought they were both dead.

“Niklaus, what-” but Elijah broke off at the sight in front of them, coming to a stop right at Klaus’ side. “What’s happening to them?”

“A battle of the minds.” Kol informed them, crouching down right by the two downed figures feet. With a cautious touch, he reached out, not at all surprised when his hand came up against a barrier. “Though from the looks of it, they’re fighting in the Demon’s mind.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Look.” and even as he pointed, they couldn’t miss how the Demon’s form was weakening, form slowly breaking apart like ash. “Stiles is fighting to kill.”

“Good.”

“Won’t it just be able to come back? The veil is still weak.” Elijah asked, but Kol shook his head.

“Stiles is fighting with his Spark. It will burn the demon out of existence. There won’t be enough left _to_ exist on the other side of the veil.” the thought that Stiles could hold so much power should be terrifying, but none of them seemed to be able to find it within themselves to be wary of the boy. As the last of the Nogitsune’s body turned to ash, they watched in alarm as where his hand had been gripping Stiles’, the ash seemed to seep under his skin, taking purchase, slipping to settle over the outside of his wrist where it coalesced to form two, almost minuscule Japanese characters. As none of them could read the language they had no idea of its meaning but there was no time to worry about its meaning because the barrier dissolved with an audible pop and Klaus was immediately at Stiles’ side, watching his eyes flutter closed. His heartbeat slowed to something more natural, yet even as Klaus called his name he wouldn’t wake.

“Bring him back to the house. It’s safe to lift him. If he won, he is unharmed, just magically exhausted.” Kol shared, and Klaus was quick to do just that, scooping the man into his arms and bringing him home. They were met there by the others - Finn, Rebekah, Lydia, and even Bonnie looking on worriedly as he brought Stiles into the house, but he ignored all of them, wanting to settle Stiles somewhere he would be comfortable.

Despite his desire to close the door and curl up around the young man, staying with him until he woke, the moment he turned he found Lydia at the door, eyes on Stiles, head tilted, as if listening. When she finally straightened and looked to him, she gave a tired smile.

“He’s okay.” she didn’t elaborate though, just pulled the door closed, and left them alone. Klaus all but dropped to the edge of the bed, strings cut, and for a moment he wanted to do nothing more than rage and weep. Instead, he turned to gather Stiles in his arms, settling in to wait. Every second he waited, he cursed humans and their foolish, weak bodies. Even as he had the thought, he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ brow.

It was nearly twenty four hours later when Stiles stirred, and the first thing Klaus noticed was the twitch of his wrist. He caught it before Stiles could flail and hurt himself, and noticed that where the ash had coalesced, it had now faded, leaving behind the characters but so faint they were but an old, faded scar.

So, the Nogitsune must finally be well and truly destroyed.

Stiles shifted again, this time with a groan, and Klaus moved as well, because he wanted Stiles to see his face when he awoke - to know he was well and truly home. It was a selfish thing on Klaus part, but he couldn’t help a lick of panic that after the Nogitsune had managed to take him he wouldn’t trust Klaus the same way anymore.

He needn’t have worried, because the moment Stiles opened his eyes and saw Klaus there, he lunged for him, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

“I killed him. I ripped him to shreds.” and Klaus couldn’t help the startled laughter.

“Of course you did, love.” and he held the young man just as tightly. He found it hard to believe that the thing they’d all be so afraid of had been so easily beaten - but then he realized, from the tightness of Stiles’ grip, that perhaps it hadn’t been easy at all - just invisible to the eyes.

“You’re safe now.” and Stiles nodded, pulling back just so he could cup Klaus face in his hands. When he leaned forward for a kiss it was near bruising, but Klaus would never deny him this. When he pulled back, his eyes were supernaturally bright.

“So are you.”

With the power that was swirling in Stiles’ eyes, he knew it was absolutely true.


	41. Words

“Do we _have_ to stay here?” Stiles all but whined. “I mean, it’s a great house and a cute enough town but I have to say it’s lost a bit of it’s magic for me.” Klaus shot him an unimpressed look and Stiles snickered but pushed on.

“Okay but honestly. We don’t even _like_ anybody else here really. Except Jeremy. Jeremy is great. But we can be online friends, no big. I’m sick of this place. There’s no real reason to be here. It’s not like your family won’t move if we do. They’re not exactly tied here either. Plus I want to live in a city now! I’m tired of small town drama! I want big and bold and exciting! I’m finished high school! I want to take the world by storm!” Klaus burst out laughing and Stiles pouted.

“Rude. I could, you know. I could totally rule the world. Do the whole world domination thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, and I know you’re totally obsessed with your werewolf nature screaming Alpha in your ear all the time, but I could totally rule the world on my own!” But Klaus wasn’t laughing anymore, he was staring at him, something akin to awe in his features. Between one second and the next Klaus was directly in front of him and Stiles startled but didn’t move back.

“Say it again.” and Stiles frowned. What did Klaus want him to repeat? He mentally went back through everything he’d just said and then he too went still. Well shit.

“I love you.” and he almost stumbled over the words - not because he didn’t mean them, he did, but he thought them so often that he’d forgotten he’d never said them out loud before. Klaus kissed him, slow and sweet, until Stiles’ head was spinning and he had to grab onto Klaus to keep his legs from giving out.

“Once more,” and Klaus voice sounded wrecked.

“I love you.” and he didn’t stumble this time, said them with conviction.

“We can go anywhere in the world you want.” Klaus murmured then, lips brushing against his once, twice, before moving to roam across his face, down his throat. Stiles made a needy sound and Klaus all but purred in response. “I would be happy to live anywhere, as long as it was with you.” he kissed Stiles again before meeting his gaze. Stiles had to blink to focus, but he did because he knew this was important.

“I love you, too.”

 _Oh_. He’d imagined how it would feel to hear those words, but nothing really compared to the burst of happiness that lit inside of him. He didn’t realize his Spark had also reacted until he felt Klaus grinning into his skin.

“The music changed.” and Stiles couldn’t fight the flush that crawled up his skin.

“It had to include you.” he gasped as Klaus lifted him off his feet, flushed brighter when he felt his back hit the bed.

They didn’t do any more talking that afternoon.


	42. Study

Elijah thought it was endearing, really, how Niklaus and Stiles danced around each other. Ever since they’d told each other the true depths of their feelings, they hadn’t felt any need to stop, and now they were always exchanging ‘i love you’s’ and other such sweet words. He supposed it would be more accurate to say they gravitated towards each other - as they hadn’t drifted apart in any sense - in fact they were practically never out of reach of the other these last few weeks. However, this also made it blindingly obvious that both wanted more. Tangible proof of their commitment to each other. It was a study in patience to watch them.

Elijah wondered what it said about them, but also the whole family, that they thought love like this needed further definition - that none of them could truly accept it as this and this alone.

“Wouldn’t it be romantic if they were to marry?” Rebekah mused, still gazing at the door the pair had just disappeared through. Moments later, the sound of the car starting met their ears, and the pair were gone. Kol scoffed.

“I don’t think marriage is what our brother truly desire, sister.” Rebekah stuck her tongue out.

“But it would be important to Stiles.” Finn argued. “In that respect, he is very human.” that had them all pausing for a moment before Kol shrugged.

“I still think Niklaus will want to bite him before that.”

“Considering the marks on Stiles’ shoulder this morning, I’m pretty sure he’s already done that.” Lydia noted drily, joining them in the parlour and taking a seat next to Kol. The youngest brother shifted to accommodate her unconsciously, despite the fact that there had been plenty of room already, and Elijah and Finn exchanged amused looks.

“Thank you for that reminder.” Rebekah grumbled. “I’m just glad that Stiles figured out how to keep sound inside their room and their room alone.” Lydia just flashed a wicked grin.

“I think Klaus will propose.” she then said primly. “ _And_ I think he’ll ask the Sheriff for his permission first.” her expression was nearly smug but she very carefully kept only the slightest of smiles on her features.

“I’m inclined to agree.” Finn inclined his head in her direction. “Niklaus is hypersensitive to Stiles’ humanity, and Stiles has never made any secret of what he values. Despite his quirks, in many ways Stiles is very traditional.” Lydia nodded in agreement before looking at Kol. Kol shrugged at her.

“I see exactly what you do, sweetheart. But as my brother pointed out, Niklaus is sensitive about Stiles’ humanity. He has no doubt already asked Stiles for his feelings on immortality.”

“They have, in fact, discussed it.” Elijah admitted then, as Stiles had sought him out one night, asking him how he felt about his own immortality. Kol just grinned and waved at him with a flourish, as if that proved his point. Rebekah sighed.

“I would much prefer something more traditionally romantic like marriage, though I suppose turning someone so that you might spend eternity together certainly has its charm.”

“Indeed.” Finn all but drawled. Rebekah flushed. She’d forgotten that Finn had done just that.

“Speaking of.” Lydia interrupted, and all eyes turned to her. She didn’t bother hiding her knowing smile now as she turned to look at Finn. “There’s someone at the door for you.” there was a moment of stunned silence before the doorbell rang, and Finn wasted no time disappearing from the room.

They all heard the front door open, the gasp of air.

“Sage.” the name followed by impact as the woman presumably launched herself forward into Finn’s arms, paired with a laugh full of relief - joy.

“I almost didn’t believe the boy when he called me - said you were alive. I almost didn’t come.”

“I’m glad you did.” and there was another laugh, this time from both of them.

Lydia shifted, drawing attention back to her.

“Marriage.” she decided, and in the face of the scene that was occurring in their front hall, nobody could really argue anymore.

It seemed Stiles really was a romantic.


	43. Punctual

Elijah was nothing if not punctual. He had an idea of just what Stiles was looking for - but he wouldn’t ruin whatever plan Stiles had made.

He entered the morbid little cafe in the next town over and understood why Stiles found it so amusing as he looked around at the anatomically correctly shaped confectionaries, the drinks named after different ways to die. He did another sweep of the room and caught sight of Stiles waving him down, eyes bright, smile wide.

“Elijah, thanks for coming.”

“Of course. Have you ordered?”

“Just coffee for you. I know you don’t really like the sweet stuff. I got one too. And I got chocolate cake. The stuff here is to die for.” at Elijah’s raised brows, Stiles snickered, taking a big bite of cake.

“You know, we could have driven together.” Elijah couldn’t help but point out, amused. After all, these were the only plans either of them had today as far as he knew, and they’d left from the same home. Though of course, Stiles had left probably 20 minutes before he’d had to. The younger man flushed.

“It wouldn’t have been the same.” was the almost whine, and that was certainly something Elijah could agree with.

When his own mug of coffee arrived, Elijah took a careful sip, carefully taking in Stiles’ appearance. It was still fairly recent since the youth’s last confrontation with the Nogitsune, and while they were all careful to keep watch over Stiles’ health and well being, he couldn’t help but take this chance to observe. Stiles, seemingly unconcerned, just ate his chocolate cake, but Elijah knew better than to think he wasn’t aware of being observed. As it was, Stiles was looking better than he had since he’d met him.

While Stiles ate his cake, they made idle chatter, discussing books, the latest prank Stiles had pulled on Kol, what the youth thought about Sage, Finn’s partner.

“She’s intense.” Stiles said, and at Elijah’s raised eyebrows, he rolled his eyes. “She’s different. Like - she’s kinda feral I guess. Not in like, I’m worried she’ll try and hurt anyone or anything - but like.” finished he pushed his plate away and sat back, expression scrunched up as he tried to express himself. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing.

“It’s like werewolves. They need pack to be sane. People are like that too. But let’s stick with wolves. When the Hale’s all died in the fire, when the pack bonds snapped between the living and dead Hale’s. This was the worst for Peter, who was also super injured. He went insane, right? His mind couldn’t handle the stress. So like, he was feral. Everything that wasn’t pack was a threat. And he didn’t have any pack left.” he shrugged a shoulder. “Sage is the same. She’s been without Finn for a long time, but it looks like they’re bonded. I’d probably call them soulmates because nobody waits that many hundreds of years for something casual. So she’s kinda feral. I think over time her psyche will heal, but until then,” he shrugged again. “Intense.”

Elijah could only shake his head. Only Stiles could see so easily into the minds of those hundreds of years his elder.

“Speaking of psyche,” Elijah mused then, deciding that the direct approach really was best when confronted with someone like Stiles. “How is yours?” Stiles smirked, obviously not minding at all that he asked.

“I wondered which one of you would ask first.” he admitted. “I’m not really surprised it was you.” Elijah just watched him from across the table, fingertip dragging across the rim of the mug in front of him. When it was obvious he wasn’t going to rise to the bait, Stiles huffed.

“I’m good. Really. A lot better. It helps that I literally felt my Spark erasing him from existence. It’s hard to be afraid of much when I know what kind of magical mojo I can control.” Elijah supposed that was true. He’d never met anyone who could control powers like Stiles could - never met anyone with the ability to completely eradicate someone through sheer force of will.

“I’m glad.” Stiles offered him a beaming grin.

“Me too.”

He watched Stiles take another sip of his coffee before offering a wry smile.

“I think that’s enough avoidance now, don’t you?” and watched the flush crawl it’s way up Stiles’ cheeks. “As much as I enjoy your company and the conversation, you did not request a meeting here solely for my company.” Since Stiles didn’t immediately argue, Elijah’s smile grew.He watched Stiles gather himself, the furrow of concentration on his brow, the nervous tap of his fingers against the table top. When he finally took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat, expression set, Elijah knew he was ready to address why they were really there.

“I wanted to ask you for your permission.” Those were the last words Elijah had expected. “I know Finn’s technically the oldest, but really you're the head of the family. And you guys are old fashioned. I mean, of course you are, you’ve been around for a really long time. So I wanted to do it right.” he took a deep breath, resolute. “I’m asking for your permission to marry your brother.”

Elijah - Elijah was unbelievably charmed.

“You are already part of our family, Stiles.” but he smiled, knowing this was very important to him. “But you have it, nonetheless.”

Stiles answering grin was bright and pure.

It was in that moment that Elijah realized just how incredibly lucky Niklaus was, to have found someone who could love him as absolutely as this boy did.

With a smile of his own, Elijah decided to keep the knowledge to himself that Niklaus had already planned a similar trip to Beacon Hills.


	44. Piggybank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEF SOME ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER - PREPARE YOURSELVES

Stiles knew he was pouting, but he couldn’t help himself. Klaus was out of town for a few days and had refused to tell him why and he _hated_ it. He knew, realistically, that at least Klaus was being honest about having a secret and not lying to him. And realistically he knew most people had secrets, but it didn’t make him any happier about it. He also knew that most of his unhappiness stemmed from the fact that the only times he’d gone this long without Klaus around since they’d gotten together was when he’d been missing. Which he also knew was too dependant but since Klaus didn’t mind he didn’t give a shit about what society expected of him.

So there.

He snorted out a sound of disgust at his own juvenile thoughts.

He shoved another chip covered in salsa in his mouth, crunching on it angrily. Damnit, his mood was evening ruining his snack. Grumbling, he packed the food away. He could brood just as well in his room and at least his laptop was there.

Even as he made his way to Klaus’ and his bedroom, he noticed just how much of his stuff had migrated here, and not just in boxes. Even as he had the thought he nudged the bedroom door open, catching sight of one of the only boxes not unpacked, tucked under the desk, barely visible.

He couldn’t help but frown, wondering what could possibly be in the box. Klaus had unpacked all of his things for him, half on a dare, half just to make Stiles’ life easier, but the fact that he would’ve left this one was odd.

But, on that same point, the box was definitely his as it was tucked under his desk and not Klaus’. And it was his handwriting that had scrawled _bedroom_ across the side as the designation of either where it had come from or where it should go. Frowning, Stiles decides now was as good a time as any.

The moment he opened the box, he froze, fingers hovering over the contents. He knew _exactly_ what box this was. He’d thought he’d shipped it back home to his Dad. These were the items he wanted to keep - knew he’d want closer eventually - but that he couldn’t really bare to look at yet. With shaking fingers, he reached inside, slowly pulling the contents out.

There were birthday cards, baby blankets, odd toys, but they all had one thing in common; they’d all been gifts from his mother.

In the bottom was the piggybank that they’d collected quarters in, a quarter for every time they got caught doing something mischievous. It took all of his focus to stop his hands from shaking as he lifted it out, not at all surprised to find it heavy as he cradled it in his palms.

Tears prickled at his eyes and he had a single moment to think vicious thoughts at Klaus for leaving him by himself where he would be curious enough to look into things that would hurt him and then immediately countered the thought that it was in no way Klaus’ fault that he couldn’t handle his own grief.

He had the sudden urge to break it. To shatter the pottery and reveal its entrails. He wondered, somewhat morbidly, if he’d be able to name the instant that belonged to every quarter they’d placed inside; the ghosts of the past that haunted him.

“Stiles! Quit your moping and lets go out!” Kol’s voice shouted up the stairs. It jolted him out of his thoughts, his body jolting in surprise, and he watched, horrified, as the piggybank slipped from his fingers in almost slow motion and shattered instantly on the floor. Even as the grief of having another memory that contained his mother broken, he caught sight of the piece of paper folded among the quarters, yellowed with age. Curious, because he knew _he’d_ never put it here, he pushed broken pieces of clay aside to get to the paper. He hardly even noticed as a piece nicked the edge of his finger, drawing a bead of blood that smudged along the back of the paper. He did, however, notice the shimmer of magic as his Spark reacted to whatever residual energy was left on the paper as he unfolded it.

As soon as he saw the looping writing, the address in the nickname only his mother had ever called him, tears clogged his throat until he couldn’t breathe.

He read it anyways.

 

_Mischief -_

 

_I know you’re too young to understand this now, but I want you to know that no matter what I say, no matter what I do, I love you very, very much._

_I know I’ve been sick - know that it’s changed me, but my dear Stiles, never doubt my love for you._

_I have no idea how old you’ll be when you find this or if I’ll ever have a moment with you where I can think as clearly as I can right now, but I hope, wherever this finds you, you are happy and loved._

_I’m sorry for the things I’ve said that have hurt you. I can’t remember them, but I can remember you, my darling, and I know how you look when those who trust you betray that trust._

_I’m sorry that I got sick so quickly, and that we’ve had such a short time together._

_I promise you, even if I’m not here on this plane with you, I will be watching over you._

_My bright little flame._

_I hope that in your life, you can find love. The love I have for you, for your father, is what’s kept me alive as long as I have been. Without you both, I would’ve been a shadow of myself._

_I hope, most of all, that you find happiness._

_You have all of my love, always._

 

_Mom_

 

He didn’t realize how hard he was crying until the first tear landed on the page and then he was quick to push it away, not wanting to ruin it further.

“Stiles, are you alright? I heard-” Kol’s voice broke off as he burst into the room and took in the scene. It took him less than a second to read the letter before he gathered Stiles from where he’d sunk to the floor. But he didn’t let go as the human clung to him, sobs wracking his frame. He waited him out, waited until he exhausted himself, and then he eased the youth back.

“Come now, darling. You’ve fulfilled her last wish, have you not?” he soothed, and Stiles actually managed a ragged smile, nodding slowly. Because Kol was right.

“I did.”

“Then it would seem your tears are unwarranted. If she wished for your happiness.” was the soft suggestion. Stiles’ smile became wry but not less fragile.

“You just don’t know how to deal with an emotional human.” Stiles shot back. Relieved that Stiles seemed to be recovering as best he could for the moment, Kol smirked.

“On the contrary, darling. Vampires feel much more deeply than humans ever could.” The pain was brief but bright as Stiles’ Spark literally sparked out at him.

“I think my Spark disagrees.” was the smug reply, and Kol rolled his eyes but was inwardly relieved the worst had passed.

“Come then, best to clean up this mess. I heard rumour from Elijah that Klaus is to return tonight, which I, for one, am glad for. If I have to listen to you whine for another day about how much you miss him I might just dagger myself.” he complained as he ushered Stiles from the room. Even as he guided him away, he saw Rebekah waiting down the hall and he nodded towards the room. She darted inside as soon as they were far enough that Stiles wouldn’t realize, and Kol was grateful that the mess would be dealt with before Stiles had to set foot in the room again.

He was further grateful that Klaus would be home and so Stiles wouldn’t have to deal with the memories alone.


	45. Stars

“Stiles, wake up.” Stiles grumbled, arms tightening around the pillow under his head. The soft laughter brought him closer to wakefulness than the words had. “Stiles, the stars are all out.” even in his near unconscious state Stiles knew what that meant. He’d wanted to go stargazing for days but the weather hadn’t cooperated.

“M awake.” he mumbled, moving to sit up even with his eyes still closed. It earned him another laugh and then there were arms around him, helping him to his feet. He blinked his eyes open, rubbing at them to clear the blurry haze of sleep. “I’m awake.” he assured, and the excited light in Klaus’ eyes had him smiling. “Is it cold? Do I need a coat?”

“There are blankets.” Klaus assured, and Stiles nodded, leaning heavily on the other man as he forced his brain back online.

“Mkay. Lead the way.”

Klaus did just that. They’d barely even stepped out the back door when Stiles gasped, eyes fixed on the sky. He could feel the magic that filled the air until it was almost like swimming through the energy. His Spark all but sung with pleasure, chiming around him as it swirled to join the ocean of energy.

“Can you feel that?” Stiles breathed, and Klaus nodded, though he knew Stiles wasn’t looking. He knew on his own he never would’ve been able to feel it as Stiles did, he could feel the ebb and flow of the youth’s Spark, brushing over his skin, sinking under it, and sharing Stiles’ wonder with him. Klaus tugged him down into the veritable nest of blankets he’d prepared, and Stiles snuggled right in, back against Klaus’ chest. “It’s beautiful.” his voice was barely a whisper. Then he wiggled around so he could press a chaste kiss to Klaus’ lips before turning back to get comfortable once more.

“It is.” and Klaus tucked a blanket carefully around Stiles, aware that he’d catch a chill long before he’d even think to admit he was cold.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome for waking you in the middle of the night and dragging you outside.” was the glib reply, but even Stiles’ laugh was soft.

“No, thank you for giving me the stars.” Klaus felt the very air freeze in his lungs, because only Stiles would take such a thing as the most romantic gesture anyone could make. He shook his head, pressing his nose into the skin behind Stiles’ ear, inhaling his scent as he forced himself to breathe once more. Stiles wiggled a bit, and Klaus knew it was because he was ticklish, but neither pulled away. When he did, he realized that what he’d previously had planned would never have worked.

“Stiles,”

“Hmm?” was the hummed reply, bright eyes never looking away from the stars.

“There’s something I would ask you.” Stiles shifted then, as if to turn and look up at him, but Klaus kept him still, instead, he pulled the small box from his pocket, holding it in Stiles’ lap, in front of them both. Stiles made a noise of confusion and so Klaus spoke once more.

“You’re the only one who’d think being woken in the middle of the night to sit in the cold and watch the stars was a romantic gesture.” he said, speaking his own thought out loud. “You’re the only person I even think of sharing such a moment with.” he swallowed past the nerves at Stiles’ silence now, not even an attempt to interrupt, pressing forward.

“You just told me that I’ve given you the stars, but Stiles, you are the very stars in my sky.” With that, he opened the box, presenting the contents.

Inside was a ring.

He both felt and heard Stiles’ sharp intake of breath. The ring itself was a gold band, unadorned on the outside, but as soon as he lifted it from its bed, the runes scrawled on the inside became visible. He’d done a lot of research on the runes inscribed; gone through pages and pages of books with Finn to discover the best combination of runes for kindness, protection, devotion, and love.

“I realize you are very young, but having lived as long as I have, I could not imagine meeting another I wished to share my life with as I do with you. Will you share that life with me?”

“Yes.” the word was barely a breath of air, but then Stiles was turned around and throwing himself at Klaus. “Yes.” it was louder now, more forceful as he pressed a burning kiss to Klaus’ mouth. “Yes. Of course. Yes.” he was laughing now, and crying, and grinning madly, but Klaus was fairly certain he was doing the very same thing. Then Stiles was scrambling, throwing blankets aside to find the ring that had been knocked in his haste. As soon as he found it he offered it back to Klaus with a blinding grin, and Klaus obliged him by sliding it on his finger.

“I’m keeping you forever now.” Stiles half promised half threatened, and Klaus’ heart soared with the thought.

Forever wasn’t nearly long enough.


	46. Lively

Europe was an adventure. Stiles had wanted to see anything and everything. They’d spent weeks just following his flights of fancy - chasing everything that caught his eye. Klaus had never felt as young and happy in his entire life.

“Klaus! Klaus look! There’s a music festival!” Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet, pointing at where he could see bands that were starting to play from the bridge they were currently standing on. Even as he pointed, the sunlight glinted off the ring on his left hand, and his chest warmed, glancing down at the matching ring on his own hand.

It had been a bit of a whirlwind, marrying Stiles, but he’d expected nothing less.

They’d debated the where for weeks, flipping back and forth between wanting somewhere familiar and important versus something new and exciting. They’d ended up choosing to stay in Mystic Falls for the actual ceremony, deciding it was where they’d met, and more importantly, where they’d fallen in love. Kol had teased him for days about such sentiment. John had been flown into town and since Lydia had still been staying with them, there had only been a few invitations to send out to varying members of the supernatural community that Stiles had wanted present.

He’d asked, of course, if Stiles wanted to wait - after all there was no rush - but Stiles had insisted. He’d wanted to start the rest of the life, and he’d said in no uncertain terms that this was the beginning to the rest of his life that he wanted. Klaus had been unable to deny him after such words.

Stiles had at least allowed Elijah to arrange the event itself, and so it was tasteful and elegant; and if he’d shed a tear of gratitude with his brother over drinks one night, that was between them.

As soon as they’d been wed, they’d been on an airplane.

Klaus had taken Stiles’ wish literally; if he wanted to take the world by storm, he would provide him with every opportunity.

“We best investigate then, don’t you think?” and Stiles beamed, taking his hand and pulling him along. “Then perhaps some food.”

“Pasta!” was the exclamation and Klaus rolled his eyes even as he grinned. Even after nearly a month of exploring, Stiles was nowhere near winding down. He found he didn’t mind much. Immortal as he was, it was nice to be able to share in such excitement for a world that had rather lost it’s charm until he got to see it again through Stiles’ eyes.

When he finally managed to corral Stiles into a restaurant for some food, the younger man’s eyes were bright and he spoke a mile a minute about everything they’d seen even as he devoured his meal.

“Where should we go next?” and Klaus couldn’t help his grin at Stiles finally slowing enough to take a breath and ask a question.

“There’s nowhere else on your list already?” he couldn’t help but tease, and Stiles shrugged, rolling his eyes.

“Well yeah, but we’ve been going everywhere I wanted to go. It’s your honeymoon too.” and Klaus delighted in the slight blush the words still earned. He hooked an ankle with Stiles’ under the table and watched the flush darken. He grinned.

“Your company is all I need.” Klaus told him easily, and Stiles actually groaned as the flush darkened to a full blush, hiding his face in his hands.

“You’re the worst.” but the affection colouring his tone was obvious. Klaus decided to lessen his suffering a bit.

“In truth, what I desire, is to decide where it is we’ll be returning to.” Stiles looked up from his hands, considering.

“You really don’t want to go back to Mystic Falls?”

“As sentimental as its value may be, no.” he admitted with a restless shrug. “I would like a change. I think I’d like to live in a city.” Stiles nodded along, thoughtful as he finished his dinner.

“I wouldn’t mind a city. Somewhere with a decent sized supernatural community.” Stiles mused. “As strong as I am, it would be good to be somewhere where I could learn more. Maybe something with a few schools in the area. In case I want to learn normal stuff too.” his grin was cheeky. Klaus loved him all the more for it. “I’d like to stick to the States for now though, since Dad’s there.” that was something Klaus understood completely.

“Of course. After all, I think, for now, my family is still rather fond of the country.”

“Well, Louisiana has the richest magical history.” Stiles noted, and Klaus lifted a brow.

“Does it, now?” and he made sure his tone made it obvious that he already knew but wondered how Stiles did. Stiles just stuck his tongue out.

“I did some research.” the Spark defended. “I knew we couldn’t travel forever.”

“Forever is relative.” Klaus returned, and Stiles burst out laughing.

“I guess. So, anywhere in Louisiana strike your fancy?”

“I’ve always been fond of New Orleans.” even as Stiles beamed at him, he thought of how even he’d been able to feel the magic in New Orleans, and he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to Stiles. Knowing the Spark as he did, he was sure that New Orleans could never properly prepare for his arrival.

He couldn’t wait.


	47. Magic

When Stiles stepped off the plane in New Orleans, the full weight of the magical energy in New Orleans hit him like a brick wall. He physically stumbled back into Klaus who immediately wrapped a steadying arm around him.

“Are you alright?” That earned the attention of the rest of the Mikaelson’s and Sage, and they all cast glances of varying levels of worry.

“Fine.” he grimaced. “But the magic here’s old. Not exactly welcoming.” he shrugged off the worst of it to the growing surprise of the others, mouth twisting with the effort until his Spark flared, lighting against them all like a mild electrical current. The twist of his mouth became something pleased.

“All good now. But I’ll have to deal with that sooner rather than later. From the feel of things, I’d say it’s predominantly witches footing that bill. I knew the area was big on ancestral magic but I didn’t realize it was at this level.” his grin was almost bloodthirsty. “This will be fun.”

Rebekah rolled her eyes.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Klaus.” she complained. “You know you can’t just fight everyone into submission.” she warned, but Stiles waved her off.

“I’m not going to pick a fight, Bekah.” he assured her. “But I won’t back down from one either.” Klaus smirked, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

“That’s right, love. Never back down from a fight. Especially one you know you can win.” Stiles snickered, wrapping an arm around Klaus’ waist in return. Rebekah heard something about a storm followed by Klaus’ laughter and shook her head.

“Those two are going to get in heaps of trouble.” Sage caught her eye, offered a small smile.

“Best to live life to its fullest, don’t you think?” Having learned much about her brother’s lover in the time since she’d joined them in Mystic Falls, Rebekah had softened towards the other woman. Deciding now was the best time to move forward, she hooked her arm through Sage’s, pulling her ahead.

“You’re right, of course. Which means we should take every advantage before my brother’s pull us into their schemes.” Sage’s smile widened.

“In that case, I was here about two years ago. There are some places you have to see.”

 

>>>

 

Stiles sat cross legged on the floor of the Mikaelson compound. Klaus had wrestled it away from some younger vampires and around him the family was slowly routing everything that didn’t belong out.

Stiles ignored them though, focusing instead on his Spark. Ever since he’d stepped foot in New Orleans, he’d felt the oppressive force of magic bearing down on him. At first, he’d thought it was a threat - a clash of wills - but the longer he’d been there the more he realized what it really was; covetous. The magic of New Orleans wanted to assimilate him. He almost snickered at the very sci-fi thought before focusing once more. _This_ Spark wasn’t about to be assimilated into the hive, thank you very much.

He hadn’t been sure how to address the issue at first, but he’d decided the best option was to just try and face it head on. Then he decided to take that literally. So here he was, sitting on the floor, trying to figure out if he could astral project or not.

The first few attempts were useless, but then one second he was sitting on the floor and the next thing he felt like he was literally flying through the air with a shout of surprise. He’d ended up almost immediately back in his body but that hadn’t stopped him trying again, knowing exactly what he was doing now.

Though he was more or less alone inside the compound, the moment he stepped through the door and out into the street, he was surrounded. There were hundreds and hundreds of witches here, lingering, and if it wasn’t so creepy he would’ve found it really cool.

“You’re the Mikaelson’s Spark.” one woman noted, and Stiles rolled his eyes. So that’s how they were going to play it?

“No,” he drawled. “I’m my own Spark, thank you very much. If anything, the Mikaelson’s are my vampires.” he snarked right back, and that earned him some amusement.

“You’re powerful.” another woman tried. “Which in many places would make you a force to be reckoned with. But here in New Orleans, there are rules.” Stiles let his gaze cut sharply to the one who’d spoken, and let his Spark spiral out around him.

“Let’s get one thing very, very clear. I’m happy that you all want to stick around and support your descendants. I respect the hell out of ancestral power. But you have _nothing_ on me. When I die, my Spark will not become yours. I won’t become part of your collection.” there was a clear wave of discontent - of almost malice - that reached for him. With a laugh, he brushed it off. “I don’t want to fight you, and you definitely don’t want to fight me, because I can guarantee who will win.” his grin was wicked and sharp. “I would hate to deprive the next generation of witches of their heritage.” He stepped into the doorway of the Mikaelson’s compound, offering a jaunty wave.

“Keep that in mind, why don’t you? We can all get along just fine, but if you start something with me _or them_ ,” he warned, “All bets are off. I will _own_ you.” with that, he went back into his body. The magic that had been pressing down on him since they’d arrived had already eased off, and now it was just a brush against his own. Present but unobtrusive. Stiles grinned. That was more like it.


	48. Dismiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who wanted a little bit more of a confrontation with the pack - here's just a little something.

Klaus always found it rather amusing when people dismissed Stiles as a threat. People saw the young man next to the Original family and assumed he was some sort of groupie (they were taught the error of their ways though usually sent on their way after). They saw him with Klaus - saw the rings on their fingers - and assumed he was a pet (those ones never lived long). Rarely, if ever, did anyone ever look at him and think _danger_. Well, he said rarely, but he meant anyone other than the witches.

Any and all witches they came into contact with treated Stiles with the utmost respect, and there’d been a malicious glint in the man’s eyes that said he knew exactly why, but so far he’d kept the secret to himself.

But that was besides the point. The point was, Klaus knew _exactly_ how dangerous his husband was, and it was lethal. He enjoyed it very much when Stiles proved just how wrong they were.

He glanced over at where Stiles was currently behind the bar, chatting up the regular customers while he mixed their drinks. He wasn’t technically a bartender here but he enjoyed it enough and Camille appreciated the help that she was more than happy to let him behind the bar since he actually knew what he was doing. She forced him to keep the tips he earned, going so far as to shove them in his back pocket, and that, in Klaus’ mind, was what really put her in his good books. She looked at Stiles and saw someone deserving of what they earned, and made sure he got it.

The front door chimed, letting in a cool draft of fall air, and Klaus' gaze sharpened on the two who’d walked in.

Werewolves.

They didn’t often see wolves in the Quarter anymore, not since the purge a few years back, but slowly but surely they’d been returning. These two, however, were clearly on a mission. He wondered if they were here for himself or for Stiles. At this point, Stiles was nearly as famous as he was, though people usually thought of the Spark as someone to go to for help whereas when they thought of Klaus they still thought of nightmares.

The one who lead the way was tall, with dark hair and scruff along his jaw. Piercing blue eyes swept the room and he felt more than saw when they landed on him though the wolf pretended to continue his perusal of the space. He assumed from the way they catalogued him that they were here to speak to him. He took the moment to observe the younger werewolf that had followed the first in. Sharp features, pale skin, golden curls, angel blue eyes. A face he was sure got the youth out of much trouble. Smirking to himself, he looked back to the first wolf, and saw the moment the wolf saw Stiles.

The reaction was visceral.

He stopped short in his progress through the bar, nearly causing the younger man to collide with his back. When the blonde followed the other man’s gaze, he too sucked in a breath, and Klaus’ eyes narrowed. They both recognized Stiles. Stiles hadn’t seen them yet and considering the way the elder wolf’s jaw was now clenched, he was glad.

“Come on.” the elder wolf’s voice was as gruff as his appearance, as was his grip if the slightest flinch the blonde gave was any sign as he was dragged to a table just out of sight of where Stiles sat at the bar.

“Derek, what the hell is he doing here?” the younger one whispered furiously, gaze darting nervously to the bar and back.

“I have no idea.” was the growled reply.

“If he’s here, it’s probably safe.” the younger wolf replied, and there was an anxiety in his gaze.

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t need his help.” and the anger in this so called Derek’s voice had Klaus lifting a brow. Nobody was angry like that unless they felt betrayed. “Derek.” the younger tried again. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what happened. I wasn’t either. But he _never_ would’ve killed without good reason.”

 _Oh_ , so they were from Beacon Hills, were they? He assumed that made this Derek the Derek Hale that Stiles had spoken of. He wondered who the younger wolf was. From what he was hearing, this was someone who respected Stiles despite what was obviously said about him back in that blasted town.

“He abandoned the pack.” Derek argued instead, and the blonde actually _rolled his eyes_. Klaus’ respect grew a little.

“He pretty much killed himself for the pack. If he left, he had a good reason. And who the hell are you to judge? You weren’t there.” The blonde reminded him, and Derek actually growled at him. In response, the blonde’s eyes flashed a defiant gold. “You’re not my alpha anymore.” then he stood from the table. Derek’s hand shot out, gripping the younger wolf’s wrist, hard.

“We aren’t here for him.”

“Maybe you’re not, but I haven’t seem him in years and I’d like to catch up with someone I considered a friend.” and with that the blonde left the table. He moved with more confidence than showed on his face.

Klaus was watching Stiles now though, watching for the moment he caught sight of the wolf. If he was in any way upset, it didn’t matter what words the blonde may have said in private, he’d remove him. As it was, when Stiles saw him, it was clear it took him a second to recognize the blonde, and then a slow smile spread across his features.

“Isaac?” the blonde wolf gave an almost too pure grin.

“Stiles. It’s good to see you. How long’s it been?”

“A long time.” Stiles agreed with that same easy smile. “Last I heard you were living in London. When did you get back stateside?”

“Year or so ago. I did some wandering first. Chris dropped me off with a pack - I actually reconnected with Jackson.” that earned a snort of laughter from Stiles.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Isaac’s grin was wicked.

“He’s less of an asshole now, but still a peacock.” Stiles cackled.

“What brought you to New Orleans?” Stiles’ grin went sappy, as it always did when people asked about Klaus as just a significant other and not as a member of the Original family. Stiles showed in hand in such a way that the gold of his ring caught the light. Isaac’s eyes widened in surprise and Stiles beamed.

“Got hitched.”

“That’s amazing, congrats, Stiles.” and it was filled with genuine pleasure.

“Thanks. He’s amazing. I love him. Also a bit of an asshole but nobody ever said I didn’t have a type. At least he doesn’t threaten to rip my throat out with his teeth.” Stiles snarked, and at the words, Isaac winced. Klaus’ eyes narrowed. He hadn’t known that fact. His gaze cut back to Derek, because he was well aware just who Stiles had held feelings for before he’d moved to Mystic Falls. Derek’s face was set in a fierce scowl. He looked back to where Stiles and Isaac were at the bar and Stiles’ expression was apologetic.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were still friends.” Isaac shrugged, looking pained.

“It’s not that exactly, it’s that-” but he didn’t have to finish because as soon as Isaac had started to tip toe around the idea of friendship Stiles’ gaze had swept around the bar, sharp as knives. When they found Derek, they narrowed dangerously.

“I see.”

“He didn’t know you were here. I just wanted to say hi.” Isaac was apologizing, and Stiles reached a hand across the bar, giving Isaac’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it. You sticking around?” and Isaac nodded so quickly he looked every bit the puppy. Stiles obviously thought so too because he smiled, though it was tight around the edges. “Great. Camille will take care of you. Grab a seat.” and then he was out and around from behind the bar, making his way over to where Derek sat, blue eyes venomous as they tracked Stiles’ progress through the bar. Klaus almost had to strain his ears to hear Stiles’ voice.

“What are you doing here, Derek?”

“Information. There’s a pack of hybrids terrorizing a couple of western packs. Rumour has it, this is the place to go for information about them.”

“My Dad hasn’t told me anything about hybrids in California.” Derek didn’t bother containing his sneer.

“After the vampire incident, the pack doesn’t tell the sheriff everything.” Stiles visibly stiffened.

“Seriously? Scott called me.” and he was almost vibrating with anger now, but his Spark was nowhere in sight. “He called me for help, not the other way around. He knew what would happen if I came to town.”

“You burned someone alive.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“He was already dead, asshole.” Derek pushed to his feet and it was only the fact that he hadn’t yet touched Stiles that Klaus hadn’t broken his wrist.

“You have a really bad habit with killing people, don’t you, Stiles?”

“You tore your own uncles throat out.” Stiles shot back. “I’d say pot, kettle, but at least the people I killed were threatening innocents and not just hunters bent on wiping werewolves from existence.”

“You really think Peter wouldn’t have gone after you next?”

“Peter had a thing for my ass, so probably not.” Derek snarled, lashing out, but before he could even so much as lay a finger on Stiles, Klaus was there, Derek’s throat in his hand, lifting him off the ground.

“Hands off, mate. This one’s mine.” Derek’s eyes all but bulged out of his head, clearly recognizing just who had him by the throat, and Klaus smirked. “I see you know who I am. Good. That will certainly save us some time. As I’m only going to say this once, I suggest you listen closely. Stiles is worth more than your entire, pitiful pack put together. The only reason my family and I didn’t wipe the Hale-McCaul pack off the face of this planet was because Stiles decided that he didn’t even care enough to see you dead. I see the feeling isn’t mutual. If I so much as hear a _rumour_ of something unsavoury about Stiles spreading from Beacon Hills, you can rest assured that our assessment of you and yours will change. I won’t have my husband’s reputation besmirched by anyones actions but his own.” he heard Stiles snort behind him and grinned. The expression was near feral. Derek looked almost green.

“Put him down, Klaus. He’s not worth ruining that shirt. If anyone’s going to ruin it, it should be me.” and listening to him twist the words he’d just offered Derek, Klaus would’ve laughed if he wasn’t still threatening the werewolf.

“Later, love. Can’t you see I’m threatening him? I want it to be memorable, you see. Can’t have him forgetting this little lesson.”

“Aw, come on.” Stiles complained. “You know how I feel about watching you threaten people.” and Klaus’ smirk was smug. Derek looked even sicker.

“Alright, alright. As you wish, of course.” he threw Derek with as much force as he could without sending him through the wall. He didn’t want the place to have to close after all, he and Stiles both loved this bar. Derek coughed and spluttered, hand clutched at his throat as he looked up cautiously. Stiles had tucked himself into Klaus’ side and was watching Derek dispassionately as Klaus spoke. “As for those hybrids, they’re there on my orders. They’re to keep Beacon County safe. Sheriff Stilinski is under my protection, understood?” Derek nodded, though something unsavoury flashed in his eyes. Klaus didn’t miss it though. Gently, he stepped away from Stiles so he could crouch in front of where Derek was sprawled. He knew what he’d seen - knew now that the betrayal wasn’t only of morals. Derek was jealous. He’d thought he could get away with treating Stiles as he had and that the younger man would continue to let him. Klaus was happy to disillusion him of that.

“Understand this, _friend_ ,” and the clear threat had Derek flinching back. “Stiles doesn’t need my help to take care of the likes of you. He’s the most powerful Spark to have walked this world in over a century.” he leaned even closer, wanting to make sure only Derek heard his next words. “And he’s _mine_.” He stepped back then, taking Stiles’ hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. The gesture still had Stiles flushing, even after all this time, and Klaus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the reaction. Then he glanced back at the bar to where Isaac was watching them with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Come along then, little wolf. You can stay with us for now. Unless you’d rather go back to the Hellmouth with him.” Stiles’ peal of delighted laughter at his pop culture reference broke the shocked silence and Isaac was immediately on his feet and following them out of the bar. Klaus shot one more smug look at Derek who looked near terrified.

Good.

He looked at Stiles, at how he was happily chatting with Isaac once more, and realized he’d meant every word. He really would kill anyone who threatened even so much as his happiness. Then Stiles was looking at him, eyes bright with passion.

“I love you.”

He knew he’d never regret wanting to protect him as he did.

“And I you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't with Isaac he's too pure I needed to protect him.


	49. Heavy

“What the hell is in this?” Came Isaac’s demanding voice, followed moments later by a heavy thud. The sound was followed by a curse and paired with Stiles’ near hysterical laughter, and Klaus followed the sound, curious. He found them in the courtyard, Stiles sprawled over laughing where Isaac had obviously shoved him, and Isaac red in the face but with a small smile on his face. He had an empty cardboard box in hand, the bottom ripped out, and he standing over a large, decorative looking rock.

Klaus just tilted his head, confused about why the rock was in the box in the first place, but considering Stiles’ laughter, he assumed it was for pure amusement.

“Everything alright?” They were moving in the last of their belongings. Stiles hadn’t wanted to move in until everything was properly cleaned, a sentiment his siblings had agreed with, but for Stiles that also meant making sure the energy was pure and also warded to the nines. It had taken weeks for the Spark to decide the energy had been cleansed enough and so they were _finally_ actually unpacking the last of their belongings.

Isaac had been a surprising addition, but Stiles obviously appreciated the untainted attachment to his youth, and the wolf brought out another aspect of Stiles’ personality none of them had seen before. Despite his constant teasing which the wolf shot right back, it turned out Stiles was actually a bit of a mother hen, and Isaac fell under the category of needing mothering. It seemed Isaac was used to the treatment as he hadn’t even batted an eye at Stiles’ behaviour, but for the rest of them it had come at a bit of a surprise. It seemed Stiles also appreciated having someone to properly take care of, because he’d thrived since the addition of Isaac to their group.

Klaus could’ve rolled his eyes. Somehow, without his permission, his family had extended to include both a banshee and a werewolf. He wondered what would be next, but found, with the happiness it brought Stiles, he couldn’t bring himself to mind much. As long as they continued to be a benefit to Stiles, he couldn’t begrudge their company too much.

“I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s not just a rock.” Isaac said, answering his earlier question, and Klaus had nearly forgotten he’d asked it in the face of his musings. Curious, Klaus approached the stone himself, but he didn’t miss the almost gleeful glint in Stiles’ eyes as he sat up to watch.

Klaus bent to pick it up, expecting perhaps a little more resistance than he was used to considering the young wolf’s struggles, but instead he found himself nearly overbalanced by the effort it actually took to lift the stone. It was _heavy_. Stiles’ cackling started anew as Klaus set it back down, listening to Stiles nearly wheezing with his laughter.

“It’s - it’s an - anchoring stone.” Stiles finally managed to wheeze out between fits of laughter. He wiped the tears from his eyes, chuckles petering off. “It’s for anchoring wards around a property.” With a wave of his hand, it lifted effortlessly off the ground, and Isaac scowled in Stiles’ direction.

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” Stiles cackled in response.

“Because the look on your face was priceless. Even Klaus was put out.”

“Asshole.”  
“Jerk.”

“Idiot.”

Klaus shook his head fondly as the two tossed insults back and forth before they both finally dissolved with laughter.

“Hey, I wonder if we can get Kol to lift it.” Stiles wondered, and Isaac grinned.

“One way to find out.”

Children, he was living with children.

Even as he had the thought, he made no move to stop them, and he made sure he was close enough to hear the reaction of Kol’s eventual attempt at lifting the damn rock.


	50. Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the end!!

“I like New Orleans.” Stiles stated out of the blue from his spot by the window. Klaus looked up from where he was sitting up in bed reading his book, to look over at him. His laptop was in his lap but he was staring out the window, thoughtful look on his face.

“I too enjoy this city.” Klaus agreed, hoping to prompt more from the other. Stiles obliged.

“I like living here.” he said then, and Klaus wondered just what he was meaning by all this.

“As do I.”

“No but like - I really like it.” Stiles looked over then, slight frown in place. “I feel, settled.” Klaus set his book down, watching Stiles now. He wasn’t sure why feeling so settled would bring such a frown to Stiles’ face.

“Is that not what you want?” Stiles shook his head, abandoning his laptop to pace to the window, leaning against the frame. His eyes were so bright they reflected back like two stars.

“It is.” was the reply, but the frown was still in place. “I just-” he shrugged, and for all his words, he looked unsettled. Klaus stood and crossed to him, wrapping his arms around him from behind, hooking his chin over Stiles’ shoulder so he too could look up at the sky. Stiles relaxed into the hold, covering Klaus’ hands with his own, twining their fingers.

“It’s weird. Not in a bad way, but still weird.” he admitted. “I’ve never - I’ve never felt like this before.” he admitted, softly. “I was always an anxious kid - always had too much energy and sometimes I just wanted to crawl out of my own skin.” he admitted. Klaus’ arms tightened around him and Stiles twisted to press a kiss to his cheek before looking back outside. Klaus just watched Stiles’ reflection now.

“I think you’re perfect.” was what Klaus said then, and watched the pleased grin spread across Stiles’ face.

“You would.” but it was amused. “But I don’t feel like that here. I think I just don’t know what to do when I’m not fighting anxiety off with a bat at every turn. I’m not used to being okay, I guess. The magic here accepts me. I have everything I ever wanted. And I’m - I’m just so happy.” Klaus turned to press a kiss against Stiles’ pulse point, and when it fluttered under his lips he couldn’t help but bite down on it, gently, with blunt teeth. Stiles sucked in a breath and Klaus hid his wicked grin.

“It sounds like you're bored.” Stiles was still for a tenth of a second before he burst out laughing, twisting around to kiss Klaus soundly.

“Really? You took all that and came up with bored?”

“What I heard was that nothing is challenging you. You crave a challenge. There’s no reason you can’t be happy and settled here but challenge yourself elsewhere.” Stiles anchored himself with his arms around Klaus’ neck, and leaned back so he could see his face.

“I think I can see the merit of that plan.” he admitted, thoughtful expression on his face. Klaus rolled his eyes reeling Stiles back in so he could tease him once more. Stiles groaned against him, melting into his touch. Klaus knew there would be bruises marring the younger man’s skin the next day, but the darker part of him revelled in making sure everyone knew just who Stiles belonged to.

“You’re such a possessive bastard.” Stiles tried to complain, but he cut off with a whimper. Klaus preened.

“You love it.” and Stiles didn’t argue. “If a challenge is what you crave, I can always offer my assistance to your plan for world domination. After all, wasn’t that what you wanted? To take the world by storm?” Stiles’ hands were gripped on Klaus’ shoulders for balance but the older man caught hold of his wrists, pressing them into the wall above him head with one hand, his other hand pinning Stiles in place by his hip. Stiles laughs, the sound nearly breathless, bright copper eyes laughing at him.

“I don’t like the spotlight.” Stiles argued, and Klaus cocked a brow at him. They both knew full well Stiles _thrived_ on attention. Stiles just stuck his tongue out. “Only from you.” he conceded. Klaus smirked, brushing his thumb against the soft skin of Stiles’ hip, sweeping under the edge of Stiles’ t-shirt. The younger man tried to twist further into the touch but Klaus held him easily in place. “But, I think I’d do well in the background.” he admitted. The Spark of power in his eyes was the only warning Klaus got before he found he’d released Stiles’ wrists without even realizing, and Stiles launched forward, wrapping his legs around Klaus’ waist as he hooked his arms around his shoulders, catching his lips in a bruising kiss.

“Really, you’re way better suited for ruling than I am.” Klaus’ surprise must have been evident on his face because Stiles’ grin was fever bright. “What do you say, wanna rule the world?” And Klaus was amazed that Stiles could still surprise him. They’d been married over a year and still Stiles managed to astonish him.

He thought back to how he’d felt when Stiles had accepted his proposal; forever really would never be enough.

“I’ve always wanted to be a king.”

Stiles responding grin was wolfish and though his next words were mocking, they were lined with steel.

“All hail the king.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100% crack but I don't care. Hope y'all enjoyed it :p


End file.
